1. Last evening before bed in a wild game of hide n' seek, our missing son emerged from his closet bare naked, threw his hands in the air and boldly stated: "Hello ladies!" I can only blame this on his father's parenting skills or potentially genetics. Note: truly go out and purchase one of those cheesy "lock up your daughter" tees.
2. I'm already daydreaming about my "Office Space" copier moment with my pump. That's not good only three months in. Not applying storage to the end of the cones and getting so riled up about a work issue that milk is spraying three feet in every direction from small tubes is not helping. Did I mention I happened to be on a conference call in a hands-free bra on a cloudy day with the blinds open to our parking lot when this occurred? Awesome.
3. Next to Google: "how the hell boys can already stink at age three."
4. Two of my dearest had mommy meltdowns this week. This makes me feel much more normal in this universe and I'm so grateful they called.
5. I've decided to label my return to work schizophrenic. Like clockwork, one day is rainbows and productivity and the next is the greatest desire for slumber and motivation there ever was. It's quite interesting and slightly unnerving. Some days I wonder who I'm going to wake up to. Did I mention I'm her?
6. I'm definitely on the naughty list this year as I used Santa - yes SANTA - to convince my son to move his furniture back to the location I preferred. I may have a slight control issue around furniture placement. I'm uncertain as to whether this is a better bribe (or white lie?!) than chocolate chips at bedtime.
7. I may have confessed this before, but after nightly relations with Star Wars videos to get our kid to sleep, I'm not entirely convinced that Squeak did not come back as an incarnate of Yoda. Seriously - the resemblance is uncanny.
8. This week a horizontal dress I sported caused my Mom to say "you look like you just delivered." Note: this is NOT a compliment. Then again, can I still say that I did just deliver? When is that drop dead date? Because I sure could use that excuse for awhile given my recent taco and candy consumption. I'm going to go ahead with two or three years and potentially lie to strangers who follow that chat up with "so how old is your kid?" I don't do math, new friend, and neither should you. PS: the princess totally got away with that sh*t.
9. Creating Little Dude's invites that contain the number 4 melts my heart into a little puddle. Even working so hard to enjoy every little moment, where do they continue to escape?
10. Murphy's Law ensures that after a 3 a.m. nursing session, the oldest then will always stumble out and wake. Despite my peepers are still perky as I lay down in bed 10 seconds before this debacle, I pretend to be asleep and whap my husband so he actually has to get up for once. Shhhhhhh.
Got any guilty pleasures this week Momma?
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