Friday tales on a Sunday.

I don't know what is in the air... but it's not good.

I hate to be one to complain... cue the complain train:

This week has been... a week. As I hide behind my laptop my children have just subsided their fighting over an emoji pillow for the first time in over an hour, thanks to my homemade blueberry muffins, that I'm not supposed to have but am lusting over in a really weird way. 

Baking shit, it could solve wars-I swear. 

For now it just solved the fight over the double heart eye emoji pillow from-probably Walmart- that cost a grand total of five bucks and is worth throwing down over between a ten and three year old.

The logic there is really solid you guys. This is a fight worth having. 

I MEAN. 

*cracks open a 4:32 PM Beer....*

Literally. Judge me. 

Toddler realizes that after throwing himself on the floor over the pillow, mommy needs a break so he slowly shuts the door between us. He knows what he did.

It's Friday. 

Some of my friends are going home and getting pretty... some are meeting someone for happy hour.... and I'm sitting here in my mom romper and my mom messy bun and my mom life.... and I'm praying I get to the early bird special in time while knowing FULL well that my kids are going to be assholes the entire time and I will have to correct them. in public but I DO NOT CARE. I need to feel like I'm someone that leaves their house. Even if it's to the early bird special in my grandma cardigan and even if I still make it home by 6 PM to watch animal specials on Netflix.... I just wanna live.....

I JUST WANNA LIVE.

puts half the of the beer back in the fridge for later after sealing the top because.... I can't get too crazy... I have children. 

[also waste not want not]

who have I become?

Could you just not?

Where is your Mother?

'Mini, what are you doing to your brother?' Walks in on her flopping her brother all over as he refuses to cooperate. 

'I'm teaching him how to dab.'

'I don't think he wants to....' as he goes full limp body onto the floor.

Thursday mornings are always a treat..... 

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So.... yesterday was day one of braces. 

Mini and I got in a little tiff. 

I just want to be honest, I feel like y'all deserve that. 

Yesterday wasn't a 'facebook' posting kind of a day.

It was a.... 'I wish parenting had a mental health day' day. 

My daughter got upset at me because I told her that her tongue will get used to the braces and the lisp will go away. Apparently that is.... NOT OKAY. [she wants the lisp to stay?]

She gave me the silent treatment when I informed her of that... after she let me know I was dumb... with her eyes. which is the worst feeling ever. Moms of tweens.... you KNOW.

and then there is the toddler.

THE TODDLER.

He was almost banned from the Y yesterday.... he was standing his ground not to leave after two hours, and they were not amused.... neither was I.... it.... was.... humbling.

I think toddlers continually provide their parents with humbling moments.... and I'm honestly not here for it. 

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Then this morning I wake up to the MOST angelic face in the world asking to climb into bed and snuggle and I just melted.... I realized in that moment, as I have many times before that I rather be 'silent treatment-ed' by my tween and 'humbled' by my toddler every single day than have even a moment without them. They are my people. 

Happy Thursday!! 

The toddler and the tween.

Trigger Warning: Long story about gross things.....

So, I thought I was shot... when I was ten. 

Let me tell you the story: 

It was Thanksgiving morning.... the air was crisp, the sun hiding behind a layer of clouds...

[honestly I don't know what the weather was like.... it was 21 years ago]

I had turned 10 the summer before, and I was very naive.... keep that in mind.

I woke up, disoriented in a dark room at my grandparents house.  

I also woke up with a severe, crippling pain, it felt as though I was dying slowly. 

I turned on the light to get ready for the day [I crawled to the light switch-lets be honest.]

And as I pulled myself up to the light and propped my broken body against the wall I looked down... to my horror I had been shot. The pain all made sense. I had been shot. 

I crawled to the hall-shouting out for help- "PLEASE SOMEONE, HELP, I'VE BEEN SHOT!' 

no one answered, everyone left me to die. 

Typical.... 

who shot me? was it someone I knew? 

I made it to the kitchen, that 25 feet of bloody, desperate crawling really made my gun shot wound ache even more.....

There in the glow of the florescent kitchen lights was my cousin, 14 year old male cousin half way through puberty and thankful a brother to 5 girls- and looking completely terrified. 

"What's wrong, Beth?"

"Jordan.... I've been shot."

"What?? Where??"

"I don't know where! But I've been shot. I'm in so much pain... and no one is here... AND JORDAN.... there is blood EVERYWHERE. I am not going to make it much longer... I can tell."

His face seemed to look less terrified, almost calm. [Not the reaction I was wanting in this moment of slow, painful death]

"B, I think I know what is going on. You are going to be ok."

YOU KNOW NOTHING YOU IDIOT.... -I thought very loudly but kept to myself because I needed his help. 

"I think you started your period.... this is normal, I'll show you what you need to do. Everyone goes through this."

"OH.... DO YOU??"

"Well no, not everyone.... just women"

"Well, that's not even fair" [cue me literally sobbing uncontrollably]

Since everyone was next door rehearsing their Thanksgiving music special at the church [my grandpa was a pastor and the church was on the same plot as the house] Jordan went in the bathroom and found a weird square package and a tube package.... they both looked terrifying. 

"One goes on your underwear... the other one.... in you. I don't know but you'll figure it out-I'll go find our moms" 

"IN ME????? NOPE. Wait outside the door, what if I die?"

"You're not going to die."

I DIDN'T DIE. 

You guys, I DIDN'T die. 

Later that day I found out I had a Vagina... and what a Vagina was. That was a little shocking. Also found out what a period was. That was disgusting... AND THEN I found out that it happened monthly... and I asked to have a Penis instead. Apparently that takes a surgery and our insurance didn't cover it. 

All this story to let ya'll know... My daughter thought she was shot this week. [she didn't really, I've been preparing her for this for about a year... she's read the books, had her first moon supplies, etc. my trauma made me over prepare her]

I feel officially old. 

Why can't you just be 4 again?