Yesterday was technically our Friday. My mother-in-law arrived from Louisiana and the kids wrapped up their last day of school before the holidays. I even had big plans to sleep past 6AM today, but obviously that didn't happen.
Me, my baby girl, and Suzy the damn Webkin.
Remy completely disregarding the rule about no standing in the bathtub.
I swear I'm not complaining (ha!) but on top of the dental pain, the morning (all day) sickness, and the fatigue, I am now coming down with my yearly cold of death. My voice is on the way out which I'm sure will make my husband jump with glee.
Popcorn smothered in butter and diet coke. The two things I would eat all day, every day lately.
Remy has a really tough life obviously.
Let me preface this by saying that before I was a parent, I was one of "those" people who would say things like.."well, when I have kids, I will never let them behave that way." and statements like "I will never let my kids wear any sort of character clothing. How tacky." Ha. If you're one of "those" people, trust me when I say that you will get yours.
After my mother-in-law arrived here Thursday night, we decided to go out to dinner. We piled into the truck and headed towards a reasonably priced buffet type restaurant that happens to be popular with the locals here. It's nothing special, but that place was hopping last night. The line was out the front door. Busy. Lots of people.
After sitting down and scarfing down our first plates of food, Olivia announces that she needs to "moos the batroom and I can't hold it."
I volunteer to take her and halfway to the restroom, I realize that Owen is following a few steps behind us. But I obviously wasn't paying close enough attention.
Baby girl does her business in the yucky restroom, washes up, we open the door and there stands Owen waiting for us.
My son had just used a public men's restroom with no shoes or socks on.
My immediate reaction was "WHY FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY ARE YOU NOT WEARING SHOES?! OMG YOUR FEET PROBABLY HAVE E.COLI ON THEM! DID YOUR MOTHER RAISE YOU IN A BARN?"
My next reaction?
Well, I'm not walking back the table in front of the rest of the restaurant with the barefoot bandit.
I sent the wee little caveman (who was in so much trouble) back to the table. Then Olivia and I counted to five, returned to our family, and hoped the many tables of patrons hadn't noticed. (they did.)
My name is Jessica and my children were obviously raised in a barn.