After a shocking response to my last post, I’ve decided to stick it out. Largely because apparently I’m the only one who was expecting daily Pulitzer prize-winning posts. You guys are all just happy to hear stories of how my kids peed on the floor, and I can totally do that. Particularly since I’m potty training Smush, much to her chagrin, and so there literally is a child peeing on my floor. Super.
I make no promises about frequency or regularity, but I realized that I can just give you a heads up when I have some asinine topic to share, and you guys are totally okay with that. Because you all rock.
Also, I need your help.
The past few weeks, I’ve noticed that my sweet little Smush is completely and utterly out of the baby phase. There is no baby-ness left. She speaks clearly in full sentences, she runs and plays and counts and sings her ABC’s. She’s going to use the potty any day now
or hell hath no fury. And instead of cartwheeling and singing rousing renditions of Free Falling by Tom Petty, I’m missing tiny baby feet and coos and snuggles. And I’m noticing all my friends having teeny tiny babies and that makes me miss it more. Because I’m clearly insane.
This is where you all chime in and tell me that I can barely hold my schmidt together with three kids, and the fact that I’m even thinking about babies is cause for a 24 hour psych hold.
I’ve already firmly established certain criteria for another human being in our lives: I will live in my own house, where I can install electric fencing to ward off “just popping in” visitors if I’m violently puking my way through nine months of baby growing. (Can you tell how much I love pregnancy?) Plus that would mean we’re a little more financially secure, and that’s the responsible thing to do so I don’t end up like Octomom. Because no.
So there will be no more humans until I own a home. Period.
It is your solemn duty to remind me of this. And of the fact that I started this blog because my kids make me certifiably insane, and I probably shouldn’t subject another human to that voluntarily.
Finally, a very heartfelt thank you for all the love. For reals. Because some days,I really need to know that I’m not the only one hiding in the closet eating the last of the chocolate covered cashews while the kids paint the walls in toothpaste. You guys are the bees knees.