Back with some Facebook Friday (my version of #fbf) action. Kids are in school. Sheets are in the washer. Chicken in the crockpot. I’m crushing this housewife stuff. Granted, I did have to set an alarm to remind me to do all of those things. Anyway, here are some of my thoughts from the past few weeks.
No way that eating anything out of a mason jar is easy or appetizing. If I want a salad, I don’t want to dig it out of a mason jar. Ever.
I never feel cool enough to go into H&M.
Sales clerk: Would you like to donate $1 to kids with cancer?
Me: Ugh. I can’t say no now. You were all specific with their disease. I could say no to sick kids, because I never give my kids money just because they are sick. But cancer sick, yeah, I’ll donate a dollar.
Boston: Mom, can I get an Icee?
Me: Absolutely not, and when we get home you owe me a dollar.
Bought my daughter a leather skirt. It is fake leather because we are not rich. She still thinks she is Taylor Swift.
Every time I see a Red Robin, I whisper, “I love you.”
One Sunday, after church, my family and I went to Culvers. My husband was apprehensive. Culvers is new to our community and often very busy. On the drive over, I made an absentminded comment about how the Baptists don’t get out of church for another hour so we should be fine. When we walked in, my eight-year-old said, “Alright, we have an hour to eat before the Baptists get here.” These kids hear everything.
My friend bought a row machine. I was so happy that she was so happy. Then I remembered that she is also my trainer. I have spent the last week trying to figure out how to sneak into her home and dismantle the entire thing.
Because of my daughter’s inability to cope during drop-off every morning, I have to walk her into the school. Once inside, she kicks and screams and the principal or counselor has to wrestle her away from me. I get incredibly anxious and embarrassed. When this happens I say horribly awkward things. Like the time I told the principal he “looked nice today.” Or the time the new Instructional Specialist asked if she could take Kingsley and I said, “No. You are too delicate and fragile.” I might have even called her frail. I should not be allowed in public places, y’all.