TOP TEN high points from the FalkenFam’s Mother’s Day 2018:
10. Mom got to sleep pretty late. Dad got to wake up well before 8am on Sunday to a toddler yelling at the top of her lungs, “Mommy! I need Cup-Baby Milk! I wanna watch Barbie!” Considering we had a gig last night and didn’t rack out until after 2 am, the toddler’s voice was very, VERY disconcerting.
9. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone holds a 3-year-old’s attention about as long as a Continuing Legal Education class would. But I wasn’t watching Barbie with sleep-deprivation and a Malibu-induced hangover. Nope. Like Captain Jack, I was pouring milk into a sippy -cup swaying, thinking, “Why is the rum always gone?”
8. A female toddler can raid her closet and change her clothes seven times in 23 minutes. Actually, YOU can change a female toddler’s clothes seven times in 23 minutes or listen to her scream and throw a tantrum. Not sure about you, but when I’m hung over, I’m changing the effing clothes.
7. It’s amazing how you suddenly see your 8, 11, 12, and 14-year-old children as mature, responsible adults when compared to the compulsive-clothes-changing-monster-baby.
6. We knew Mom was awake when she busted out of the bedroom door, yelling, “I don’t want to alarm anybody, but there’s a HUGE brown spider crawling up the wall in our room and I’m pretty sure it’s a brown recluse!” Guess who got to kill it and guess what kind of spider it wasn’t . . .
5. Some of you are still trying to figure out what the hell a “Cup-Baby Milk” is. Since she was old enough to use a sippy-cup, we have asked our toddling-toddler-tot, “Do you want a cup, Baby? Milk?” Using toddler-logic (biggest oxymoron ever), do you now understand the etymology?
4. The front yard photo session went great. Just great. We got one decent shot. What? No, of course there weren’t any frustrated utterings of “why won’t she sit still” or “just let me take the picture” or “don’t move” or “can’t anyone ever just be happy?” Nothing to make people smile for the camera like an anger-salted, “Just hold that baby still and smile for the damn stupid picture right now!”
3. Lunch at Red Lobster (the only decent seafood joint where you can actually feed and take in miniature humans) was overall pretty great. Of course, there were a few point deductions for the toddler screaming fit that ended in me a) carrying her out screaming, clawing, kicking, pulling; b) nearly getting kicked in the balls trying to pick her up out of the booth; c) getting hit in the face; d) getting my hair pulled; e) my sunglasses strap getting broken when the sunglasses were ripped off from around my neck; and f) forcing a toddler to look me in the eyes and tell me, “I so sorry I make da bad choices, Daddy.”
2. The follow-up stop at the grandparents to wish my mother a Happy Mother’s Day was nice. No really, it was nice. No issues. The toddler was so sweet after her nappy-nap that Mommy gave her a pumpkin soda. She loved it. It smelled effing disgusting.
1. It’s 10:29 p.m. Mom is now relaxing in our bed with the cat, listening to music to help her fall asleep. Four of my children are asleep. I’m in the living room typing this. The toddler is currently death-screaming, “Daddy, I want clothes on!” Please refer back to No. 8 so you will understand why I am ignoring everything she says (read “screams”) at me. Am I wrong for wanting to pour pumpkin soda in Mom’s purse? Not even a little? Fine.
Happy Mother’s Day, Faith. We love you more than you can ever even fathom in your wildest of wildest dreams.
Thank you for stopping in.
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