April 25, 2011
Why is today still spring break? Why wasn't one whole week off from school enough? Why this one extra stupid day -- the same day, of course, that I traditionally spend alone and gleeful as I thoughtfully and judiciously "edit" the contents of my children's Easter baskets because THAT BUNNY HAD NO RIGHT TO BE SO GENEROUS -- of stir-crazy kids running around the house begging for peanut-butter eggs?
And honestly, I'm not so sure Noah is particularly thrilled with being home with me anymore either. He's bored and done and over it too. Especially since I won't let him ride his little brother like a donkey anymore or swaddle the dog like an infant.
I am No Fun, you guys. And he is done with me, professionally.
You know what IS fun, though? The new car. The kids looooovvvvvve the new car. They want to live in the new car. Yesterday, in a fit of We're Completely Out Of Activities related boredom, we simply opened all the doors to the new car and set them loose in it to climb and explore and turn traction control on and off.
Jason and I kicked back on the grass with iPhones and Kindles and supervised (which basically meant we looked up frequently enough to confirm that nobody had magically started the car and put it in gear and taken off for a new life on the road) and congratulated ourselves on being the greatest parents ever.
Except that -- and oh, we walked right into this one just like a Creed song -- when Noah was first informed that our Green Car was no more and we now had a new White Car, he took the news (predictably) very badly. Not a fan of change, that one. And I rushed to soothe his tears with the little detail that HEY GUESS WHAT, THERE'S A TV IN THE NEW CAR. Upon hearing this, Noah froze. His eyes went very, very wide. Then he said, "Let me get my coat."
"The TV in the new car is just for special trips," I tried to explain, "Long trips. Like going to see Grandma. Not short everyday trips."
To which my children were like, "HA HA FUNNY MOM NOW HOW'S ABOUT THAT DESPICABLE ME DVD?"
"Well," I tried next. "Today can be all special trips, since it's the first day in the new car. After today, though..."
"AND WOULD IT KILL YOU TO POP SOME POPCORN?" was pretty much the response I got.
Monsters. I have created them. Or at least equipped them with personal wireless headphones.
It's something like 900 degrees outside right now (give or take a few degrees to account for the whole eight-months-pregnant thing), but since our one big planned organized outdoor activity was scheduled for Friday, that means it was 41 degrees and pouring down rain the whole time.
The eggs were real and wet and covered in grass and filth, as if you plucked them straight from the underside of a chicken, for that extra authentic experience...
...which was admittedly dampened a bit by the sight of a parks employee openly marching through the egg hunt area with cartons of hard-boiled eggs, dropping them half-heartedly into the grass with a look of STUPIDEST JOB EVER on his face, while all parents in the vicinity rushed to explain to their preschoolers and toddlers that he was simply the Easter Bunny's HELPER, YEAH, THAT'S TICKET, and he just looks that grumpy because the Bunny doesn't offer very good retirement benefits.
None of our eggs made it to the (indoor) decorating table intact. Ezra kept dropping them and Noah insisted on "opening" his eggs to check for candy inside.
I sense I've let that one down in the whole "know where your food comes from" department, a little bit.
And there's your belly photo for the week, right there. I know you can't see my face or anything, yet I still feel like the massive amounts of fun I was having at the time really radiates through, somehow, anyway, regardless.