nik knacks

I am the parent of a middle-schooler.

I’m so excited/nervous for Madelynn today that I worked myself up to the point of nausea. Way to make it all about you, Nik! From morning sickness to sympathy anxiety, this kiddo really has a connection to my stomach. 

I really should have planned better, and requested the day off work so that I could wallow in the too-fast passage of time. (And recover from the early wake-up call.) 

I don’t know what happened to me today, but I woke up and hit the ground running, going at my morning like gang-busters. (Possible theories: alien abduction, moon in seventh house, apocalypse now?) I made breakfast, and by “made breakfast”, I mean that I did more than pour cereal into bowls. I sat down long enough to digest the fruits of my labor (don’t be fooled, there was no fruit involved, only aggressive amounts of egg, cheese, bacon, and tortillas) and then off I was again, dusting and spraying and wiping and cursing under my breath, but feeling quite proud of myself nonetheless. 

I had just started on my second load of laundry of the day when Chris poked his head into the laundry room. “Have you seen my green shorts?” he asked. I clearly remembered grabbing them during my whirlwind Tasmanian Devil-esque grab-all-the-stray-laundry-fit earlier.

“Yes….” I said, suddenly feeling guilty for swiping them from the bathroom counter and throwing them into the washer if he had intended to wear them today. “I’m sorry, do you need them right now? I just started this load and they’re in there.”

And then, with the next sentence that came from his mouth, all of my mental patting-self-on-back quickly turned to slapping-self-cross-face. “My cell phone was in the pocket.” 

AND THIS IS WHY I DON’T DO HOUSEWORK MORE OFTEN. 

I’ve never been a tidy person. If I can’t keep my house in order, you can imagine what my car looks like- it’s like a room on wheels. A messy one, at that. Five people can generate a lot of clutter. I try to justify it to myself by saying I’m not messy- I’m prepared. If, for some reason, there was a disaster and I was forced to live out of my car for a week? I’d be good to go! 

One of the selling points of getting a mini-van was the fact that there would be another full row of seating; a nice way to get those “are we there yet???”s just a little quieter. Upgrading from a CR-V to an Odyssey was like moving from a studio apartment to a one bedroom. And, in this metaphor, the “bedroom” doesn’t belong to me, so I don’t go in it. 

I was cleaning out the car today, and climbed into the very back seat. With all the little compartments, cubbies and cup-holders, it was like going on a treasure hunt! I can’t see into all those nooks and crannies unless I’m actually back there, and I don’t make a habit of investigating the area often. I almost hesitate to tell you what I found back there, but if I really cared about what people thought of me, I guess I wouldn’t be driving a freaking mini-van in the first place, so I’ll give full disclosure. 

There were toys, pencils, socks, empty water bottles and some wrappers… par for the course. And then, in one of the little side compartments, I found a box of petrified French Toast Sticks. When the heck did one of the kids have those? Ah yes, when we drove out of town for Maddy’s soccer tournament… in DECEMBER. 

In one of the cup-holders was a paper takeout cup. The last time we ate at that place was at least two months ago- but it was still this calendar year, so after the French Toast Sticks, I figured it couldn’t get any worse. Full disclosure? I figured wrong. The cup wasn’t empty. The contents (some brown soda) had disintegrated the bottom of the cup and filled the cup-holder… and then reduced and solidified.

So, I spent a good part of my lazy Sunday cleaning goo out of a cupholder. Fast food isn’t just bad for your body, people. It’s bad for your car. Learn from my mistake! 

I actually ordered a low-cal breakfast this morning… scrambled egg substitute and turkey bacon. This has happened precisely zero other times in my life. (No, I wasn’t body-snatched, to the best of my knowledge.)

As the waitress placed our orders in front of us, she said to me, “The kitchen accidentally put hash browns on your plate. I don’t know why! Enjoy!”

I KNOW WHY, LADY.

1.) The Universe knows I can not live on scrambled egg substitute and turkey bacon. 

2.) I can not eat healthy, even if I try. Even WHEN I TRY!!! 

(Aside: turkey bacon is NOTHING like regular bacon. Oh, the rant I could do about Turkey Bacon!!! ) 

I said goodnight and closed the door. I heard Reagan say, “Goodnight, Reagan.” I thought that was pretty sweet, until I heard her respond. “Goodnight, myself.”