I told my friends and family this week that I’d be super cool about the whole hanging-out-at-Crappy-Pictures / byline-in-Huffington-Post-Parents thing as soon as I finished pooping my pants.
Then my brother was jealous of me.
You know what? It’s OK, friends. It’s natural. I’m his older sister, and it’s hard being a baby brother sometimes especially when the big kid gets to go do big-kid stuff. I get it. ...
We’re going camping. With six kids. Because
Wait. Hang on. I just need one second.
Because…
Um. Hm.
It’s because…
Shoot. I got nothin’.
This isn’t a real blog post. Just FYI. This is a we-just-finished-packing-and-we’re-leaving-in-fifteen-minutes-and-I-have-Lost-My-Ever-Loving-Mind post. Eventually, there will be an oh-silly-me,-camping-is-awesome-with-s’mores-and-sticky-kids-and-cousins-and-beer post. I will have a change of heart. I will overcome. I will persevere. But that time is not now. This is not it. This is the middle-of-childbirth post. Sorry about the mess. ...
Today is my little brother’s birthday. Jeff is 35. Woohoo!
Here’s what I need for you to know about Jeff:
Jeff pooped his pants a lot when he was younger.
Like, Jeff pooped his pants ’til he was 17. Or maybe just ’til he was 6. It’s hard to say for sure; time was all wonky when I was a kid.
My mom told me not to make fun of my brother for pooping his pants. She also told me to be nice to him and to share my stuff with him and to include him in games with my friends, so she was pretty much irrational all the way around. ...
I stuck my mascara wand in my left eye this morning because my left eye back-talked me and violence is always the solution.
Now, technically, my left eye didn’t say anything out loud, but that’s only because it lacks the means to do so. The way it was blinking all passive-aggressive at me just really yanked my chain, you guys.
You might think I’m overreacting, but right after I popped my left eye a good one, it popped me right back with a Super Blink. You know the one. The extra watery, blurry, deep eye crunch? The one that paints your entire eye socket and cheek with wet mascara? The one that says, “Oh, yeah, lady? You think you can poke me with your mascara wand? Well, take this,” and leaves muddy tracks down the side of your face just to make a point? ...
World Malaria Day. Ah, the memories!
Today – April 25th – is World Malaria Day. I know you’ve had it circled on your calendars, and I’m probably interfering with your own malarial memories, so I’ll try to keep this short. No guarantees, though, since I suck at brevity.
Once upon a time, I was 13 years old with feathered Farrah Fawcett hair and a penchant for lying to my parents. ...
My niece: I want french fries.
Her dad: Well, I want good listeners.
My niece: But Daddy, we HAVE french fries.
…..
My little brother, Jeff, is a daddy.
Jeff and Kim have three kids.
Their kids are aged 3, 2 and almost 1.
That’s three kids aged 3 and under.
Three kids aged 3 and under is slightly less overwhelming than three kids aged 2 and under, which is what they had a few months ago. ...
Hypothetically speaking, wouldn’t it be HILARIOUS if you found out, oh, say, 6 months into the school year that you had the school start-time wrong and that you’ve been dropping your kids – and all of the other kids in your carpool – off 15 minutes late for school EVERY SINGLE TIME YOU HAD CARPOOL DUTY ALL YEAR LONG?
That would be really funny. ...
