Do you want to know what I did today? Of course you do. Well, first, I checked my news feed on my phone about every 15 seconds to see when the Duchess of Cambridge had been safely delivered of her child. I love that. Safely delivered of a son. Ha! It makes it sound so... sweet and peaceful. I digress. That was actually not ALL that I did today. Are you ready for it? You may want to sit down.
I registered my baby girl--my BABY--for Kindergarten.
I am talking about my little teeny tiny fairy nugget of a baby. Peach is going to Kindergarten. And I must admit, I am feeling a little bipolar about it.
My thoughts today went something like this:
Out loud: "Yay! Peach! Let's go get you registered for Kindergarten!"
Internal Dialogue: "Wait. Peach. You are still a baby. Silly Mommy, thinking you are ready for Kindergarten!"
Out Loud: "Look at your new school! This place looks like fun!"
Internal Dialogue: "Ew. How old is that playground equipment. Looks like a death trap. No way I'm leaving her here without my supervision."
Out Loud: "Hi! I'm here to register my daughter, Peach, for school!"
Internal Dialogue: "Ummm...hello? I am about to trust you with my baby. My youngest child. And I'm really not sure how I feel about it. So, if you would just give me a damn minute to fill out these papers and stop throwing information at me, that would be fab."
Out Loud: "You are going to learn so many new things and make so many new friends, Peach!"
Internal Dialogue: "And I will be sitting at home all alone, without my little shopping buddy. My little curly-haired sidekick. Just get back in my belly, little baby girl!"
I guess it all just sort of snuck up on me. I mean, I really enjoy my alone time. All of the Goombas were in school last year, the boys full-day, and Peach in 1/2 day preschool. I really enjoyed those 3 hours in the afternoon. So, why am I being all weird about Kindergarten? I guess it's because Peach is my baby. When Mario went to school, it was so exciting and new! When Luigi went to school, I knew he was so ready for the adventures that he was beginning! With Peach, well... I guess I just feel like we are closing a chapter in our lives.
I am looking back over some of my old blogs and it really seems like only yesterday that I was losing my mind over peeled crayons and grapes squished on the floor. Although we have been done with diapers for quite some time, I still had "little ones" at home. Now, little sticky fingers that wanted to hold on tight to my hand walking across the street are turning into bigger hands that let go more and more often. Scribbled coloring pages and drawings of happy stick figures with no necks are being replaced with written reports and fancy art projects. Mommy and Daddy are more often becoming Mom and Dad.
This is natural, I know. I am loving watching my Goombas grow and change and learn. They amaze me every day. I am so excited to see them follow their paths and do all kinds of new things. But, it's like... You know when you are "in" something, and it kind of feels like it will never end, and you will always be stuck "there?" Then, suddenly, one day you realize, you aren't "there" anymore. Now you are "here" and you aren't really sure how you got there. You know you muddled through, but you forget why you felt so stuck and how the days and hours seemed to just drag on sometimes. And then you look at the beautiful beings that you have been teaching, nourishing, and loving and you think, "I am so blessed to have been there for all those moments... the really, really long ones, and the ones that flew by too quickly," and then it kinda takes your breath away for a minute.
Of course, five minutes later, you are all getting into the van, and those "beautiful beings" are screaming at one another over who got their seatbelt on first and you think, "Oh dear, LORD, these kids need to get back to school, like, YESTERDAY!!!"
Cheers and love to all!
~Daisy
I had a mind once. Now I have small children.
Monday, July 22, 2013
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Drama Aint' Just for Girls...
Another typical night in the Mario house. We are getting ready to eat dinner. Since my oh so graceful injury, my dear Bowser has been doing MUCH of the housework. (By the way, Bowse, my man, thank you and I love you!). Bowser and I had chicken caesar salad wraps, and since the Goombas wouldn't touch lettuce if it were dripping in chocolate (or ketchup in Luigi's case), they were having nuggets and fries.
I was starving. Starving! I needed to eat immediately. So, the wraps were done before the nugs and fries. We all sat down at the table and said grace and I started stuffing my face. Meanwhile, Bowser was still waiting for the fries to come out of the oven. Luigi was getting desperate. He needed some french fries. Not just wanted, but NEEDED some french fries. He started frantically looking around.
"Wait? What? Where are the fries???" he cried.
Bowser said, "What fries? I ate them all already."
Wrong. Answer. Daddy.
As Bowser was trying to get the very hot fries out of the oven, Luigi started crying. But, not just crying. Actual wailing over the "loss" of his beloved potato-y goodness.
"Daaaaaaadddddddyyyyyyyyy," he howled, "wwwwhhhhhyyyyyyyyyyy?????? Why did you eat all the fries????????????????????????"
Bowser replied, "Well, I was hungry." I would just like to state for the record here that I knew this was a bad, bad, bad response. However, as previously stated, I was so hungry that I could have eaten my actual plate. I was not interested in stopping an argument at that particular moment.
Suddenly, Luigi, my dear sweet child, screamed, "Daddy! You have RUINED MY LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!! RUINED IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Now, I might have expected this from a teenager. Or from Peach, who at 4 years old is on a level of drama I could never even try to understand. I did not expect it from my 6-year-old son.
Fast forward 5 minutes. There are, indeed, french fries at the table. Luigi is happily drowning each one in massive amounts of ketchup.
Bowser says, "Hey, Luigi. I'm sorry I ruined your life."
"Huh?" (as if nothing ever happened.)
"I'm sorry that I said I ate all the french fries and ruined your life," Bowser said.
"Oh," Luigi said nonchalantly. "Well, I THOUGHT you did. But, now I have some fries, so you really didn't."
Well. At least we got that cleared up.
Cheers!
~Daisy
I was starving. Starving! I needed to eat immediately. So, the wraps were done before the nugs and fries. We all sat down at the table and said grace and I started stuffing my face. Meanwhile, Bowser was still waiting for the fries to come out of the oven. Luigi was getting desperate. He needed some french fries. Not just wanted, but NEEDED some french fries. He started frantically looking around.
"Wait? What? Where are the fries???" he cried.
Bowser said, "What fries? I ate them all already."
Wrong. Answer. Daddy.
As Bowser was trying to get the very hot fries out of the oven, Luigi started crying. But, not just crying. Actual wailing over the "loss" of his beloved potato-y goodness.
"Daaaaaaadddddddyyyyyyyyy," he howled, "wwwwhhhhhyyyyyyyyyyy?????? Why did you eat all the fries????????????????????????"
Bowser replied, "Well, I was hungry." I would just like to state for the record here that I knew this was a bad, bad, bad response. However, as previously stated, I was so hungry that I could have eaten my actual plate. I was not interested in stopping an argument at that particular moment.
Suddenly, Luigi, my dear sweet child, screamed, "Daddy! You have RUINED MY LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!! RUINED IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Now, I might have expected this from a teenager. Or from Peach, who at 4 years old is on a level of drama I could never even try to understand. I did not expect it from my 6-year-old son.
Fast forward 5 minutes. There are, indeed, french fries at the table. Luigi is happily drowning each one in massive amounts of ketchup.
Bowser says, "Hey, Luigi. I'm sorry I ruined your life."
"Huh?" (as if nothing ever happened.)
"I'm sorry that I said I ate all the french fries and ruined your life," Bowser said.
"Oh," Luigi said nonchalantly. "Well, I THOUGHT you did. But, now I have some fries, so you really didn't."
Well. At least we got that cleared up.
Cheers!
~Daisy
Saturday, June 22, 2013
Spray Tan
Yes, it has been another long stretch without hearing anything from or about the Goombas. We are in the throes of summer break and.... well, you know how I feel about that.
This is just a quick story for you.
This morning, I was dropping off some handpainted glasses at a local boutique. I love this place. They have bling out the booty, and such super cute stuff. Their newest addition... A spray tanning booth. Awe. Some. When I went in this morning, the owner and some others asked if I would like to volunteer to do the first spray tan so they could practice. A free spray tan? Sure! I'm game! I have never had a spray tan before, and since my injury this summer (loooonnnnggg story, don't ask) I have not had much sun time. Thus my pasty white legs must have alerted these women that I would be the perfect candidate.
Now, I love all these ladies, they are all so sweet. But, I don't know them that well yet, so I left my panties and bra on (straps tucked in) and said, "spray away!" The owner of the sprayer thingy showed everyone how to use the sprayer and how to hold it and spray. It was a little cold and sticky. But, I couldn't believe it! I had a beautiful golden glow within minutes! WOW. I am totally doing this more often!
I should tell you that before I went to the boutique, it was early on Saturday morning. I had not yet showered for the day, and I was still wearing my scrubby, comfy clothes. And underwear. This information will come in handy in a moment.
Did you know that spray tan gets darker as the day goes on? Something about the chemical reacting with your skin and activating. Whatever. I love it. I have not looked this beachy bronze in YEARS. Mostly because the sun and I, we don't get along. It tries to give me sunspots, and wrinkles and cancer, and I frankly don't want any of those things. Some people find this hard to understand. And, that is ok with me. I will be the one wearing the 800 spf when I see you at the park. I digress....
I was so excited over my newly non-ghosty skin, that I was showing off my tan to the family at dinner. And that is when Bowser, my love, my life, my husband, noticed the stripe on my back from between my undies and bra, and said, "It looks great! Next time, though, you probably shouldn't wear your granny panties that go half way up your back."
**Facepalm**
So, I highly recommend a spray tan. I also highly recommend NOT wearing your granny panties.
Cheers!
~Daisy
This is just a quick story for you.
This morning, I was dropping off some handpainted glasses at a local boutique. I love this place. They have bling out the booty, and such super cute stuff. Their newest addition... A spray tanning booth. Awe. Some. When I went in this morning, the owner and some others asked if I would like to volunteer to do the first spray tan so they could practice. A free spray tan? Sure! I'm game! I have never had a spray tan before, and since my injury this summer (loooonnnnggg story, don't ask) I have not had much sun time. Thus my pasty white legs must have alerted these women that I would be the perfect candidate.
Now, I love all these ladies, they are all so sweet. But, I don't know them that well yet, so I left my panties and bra on (straps tucked in) and said, "spray away!" The owner of the sprayer thingy showed everyone how to use the sprayer and how to hold it and spray. It was a little cold and sticky. But, I couldn't believe it! I had a beautiful golden glow within minutes! WOW. I am totally doing this more often!
I should tell you that before I went to the boutique, it was early on Saturday morning. I had not yet showered for the day, and I was still wearing my scrubby, comfy clothes. And underwear. This information will come in handy in a moment.
Did you know that spray tan gets darker as the day goes on? Something about the chemical reacting with your skin and activating. Whatever. I love it. I have not looked this beachy bronze in YEARS. Mostly because the sun and I, we don't get along. It tries to give me sunspots, and wrinkles and cancer, and I frankly don't want any of those things. Some people find this hard to understand. And, that is ok with me. I will be the one wearing the 800 spf when I see you at the park. I digress....
I was so excited over my newly non-ghosty skin, that I was showing off my tan to the family at dinner. And that is when Bowser, my love, my life, my husband, noticed the stripe on my back from between my undies and bra, and said, "It looks great! Next time, though, you probably shouldn't wear your granny panties that go half way up your back."
**Facepalm**
So, I highly recommend a spray tan. I also highly recommend NOT wearing your granny panties.
Cheers!
~Daisy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)