Yogurt and Soup, oh my!
Today is my coffee playdate. I get up every Thursday morning, get the kids fed (or not, since there are cookies at the coffee shop) and get us out the door. This morning I decided that we would not be ingesting sugary goodness, so I sat the kids down to eat. We were out of eggs and any normal cereal that the boogers would eat so I made them each a piece of toast and gave junior some yogurt.
He adores yogurt, however he doesn’t adore his spoon. And he won’t let me get near him to help. I left him to his mess making and gathered our things for the trek to coffee heaven. During this yogurt fun I took a short break in the bathroom. Nature was calling when I heard phone buttons being pushed. So I quickly finished my duty (get it? Duty. Doodie. I’m so funny.) and caught Junior attempting to make a yogurty call. I decided he was done and, setting the phone aside, cleaned him up and got out the door.
For the next two hours I could not make him happy. He cried, fussed, hit, threw himself on the floor and any other general annoying toddler attitude that you can think of was thrown at me. So when we got home and he had napped for a few minutes and was hungry I thought it would be smooth sailing to get him to eat his soup.
The bowl of soup sailed smoothly through the air, spraying its contents all over the floor and my pretty expensive suede boots. I just sat here staring, in awe of the mess and lack of warning that should have occurred. I cleaned up the mess quietly, begging myself not to sit in it and cry. Then I gathered up my resolve and moved us into their bedroom to reorganize and clean. We were doing fantastically. I hadn’t thought about the soup or sticky yogurt in minutes. Then I heard hubby calling. I ran into the kitchen and scooped the phone up to my ear, and realized that I was holding a sticky, albeit dry, cordless telephone. Joy oh Joy.
I love Thursdays.
Around my ankles
just wanted to let everyone know what I’ve been up while I ignore my blog completely. I’m making my pants fall down. Today I discovered I had to hold up my tightest pair of jeans while I jogged across a parking lot. Yes this skinny ass is getting even more fit.
How do I do it? Well, there is the whole eating less thing. But I’ve fallen in love with this Hip Hop dance class that I make an absolute ass of myself in. I can’t even most of our latest routine. I literally have to stop and watch everyone else roll themselves around on the floor at a superfast speed while I stand there, hands on hips, panting, and hoping nobody watches me dying to catch my breath.
Boog laughs at me when I dance. That’s how bad I am. But…pants around the ankles baby. She can laugh all she wants.
