I know I have been terrible at blogging, and at least one person (well, only one actually) has called me out on it….haiiiii CD!
It’s this working full time gig. The irony is when I wasn’t working, I couldn’t shop all that much because there is only so much Joe Fresh you can disguise as legit groceries from your husband. And after awhile, you realize huh, Joe Fresh doesn’t fit your body all that well and you should just avoid Joe Fresh altogether. Oh yeah, the irony part. The irony is now that I make lots of money (keep in mind when you go from making nothing to something, lots is relative) I don’t have ANY time to shop. Nada. And I love to shop. I don’t even have time to online shop. It’s.That.Bad.
Stop crying for me, dry your tears. I’m okay, I’m adjusting – I’m wearing 2012 but I’m adjusting (are we still doing colour blocking? I need you to tell me these things). But I do miss blogging, I miss trying to convince you that my nothing life is as funny as an amuse gueule (get it? Not funny at all! It’s just a funny word for food!)
As I jam a sandwich into my mouth, anticipating my next conference call in 5 minutes, I have this story to share:
So my youngest is as talkative as a chipmunk who’s been wronged – she chats non-stop, sun-up, sun-down, during dinner (literally, she talks with food in her mouth, sprays it around like a sprinkler). She even talks when I brush her teeth at night (she’s 8, it is strange that I still do that? In a fit of “I’m doing everything wrong!” I threw out all of my parenting books and I have no idea if I’m still supposed to be brushing for her. Oh well, she’s going to need therapy regardless, she can just add it to her list of my mistakes). Brushing her teeth is challenging, it’s like trying to aim at a moving target – her mouth just opens and closes, random noises coming out – I’ve stopped listening to her at this point in the day – I’m strictly in a stripped-down survival mode. I have to try and dart in there and time my moves very carefully. She moves a lot too, which adds to the fun of it all.
So last night we had our usual struggle for about 10 seconds. Then she was silent and still. Nothing. I stared at her. She stared back at me with her huge baby blues and blinked. I raised my eyebrows in a what’s up motion, not wanting to provoke too much dialogue, and she simply said “I have no more thoughts in my head”. So it’s like for the past 8 years she has been spewing out everything she had in her little tank, and last night she hit empty.
I’m totally going to try using this line on my conference call this afternoon.