We went to a Superbowl party. I don't even remember who played, let alone who won. That's how quickly my children perform the "Mind-Bender" on your's truly. I do remember there were wings.
As I put Natalie to bed, I remember thinking to myself, It's really going to suck whenever Nat throws up on this top bunk. Then I go to bed. I dream that I'm feeling pretty nauseous. I wake up. It's 2:00 a.m. Wait, I'm rather nauseous awake. Oh crap.
There flew the wings.
Five minutes later, Natalie wakes up moaning. Matt gets to her in time before she fulfills my prophecy of spewing from the top bunk. It's a long day as Nat and I both work abdominal muscles that I only work about never, every 45 minutes through lunch time.
It's a good weight loss plan, though. I went to the doctor the next day and weighed in seven pounds lighter. (No worries. I would go on to eat a lot of fast food this week to more than make up for it.)
As I was getting blood drawn out of my dehydrated veins, Matt was at the doctor getting diagnosed with strep. He is told he can get a shot in the butt or take antibiotics thrice daily for ten days. He opts for the pills. I would take the shot in the butt any day because I like mooning nurses.
Nat uses her time off from school to finish her science fair project. She wanted to know what uses more water: a shower or bath?
She figured out that a 5-minute bath uses more water than a 5-minute shower, but a Natalie-length shower uses way more water than a bath. I think she gets her water-wasting skills from my husband, who showers considerably longer than a teenage girl. He can't talk right now; he really is washing his hair.
Maybe that's why I
skip showering go green so often. You know, the same reason I vote democrat, to cancel out Matt's vote.
At the end of the week, when we were completely done with germs and such, it was time to turn on the ovens for the bake sale. Truffles. Cherries. Pretzels. Cupcakes, to the tune of fifty dozen.
If I ever see another cupcake again, it will certainly be too soon.
Well, I take that back. My birthday is in June and I want PILLSBURY FUNFETTI CUPCAKES BAKED IN FOIL LINERS WITH BETTY CROCKER RAINBOW CHIP ICING. It's so sweet, it will make the back of your top front teeth hurt.
Anyway, we were up pretty late, but it was cool, because I taught Matt how to make buttercream and a couple of my friends learned how to pipe icing and paint chocolate hearts. It's a-okay to stay up late if it's educational. Now if it would count as an excused educational absence in school if you were to sleep in the next day, I don't know. But it should be. Especially since we play records late at night. Ken Burns should totally make a documentary on us cupcake-icing, beer-drinking, record-playing fundraisers.
Did I say beer? Well, if you can consider Budweiser Select 55 a beer, then yes, I was drinking beer. But it was more akin to rinsing out an empty beer can and drinking that water. Yes, it's the only beer that hydrates. Maybe it's marketed toward pregnant women, I don't know. I ate Pizza Hut the night before and felt guilty about calories for a second. Then I was stuck with a lot of canned-carbonated water in my fridge.
Ken Burns would surely take issue with this, as I have.
We got to bed by 3:30 that evening and awoke the next day to push baked goods harder than they've been pushed before. I haven't counted up exactly how much we made, but trust that it was a lot for le bald kids. That will be another post, whenev I can figure out how to make electronic glitter burst from the total.
Or maybe it will be in larger, boldfaced font.
Holy cow, is Valentine's Day seriously on Monday? I can't do Valentine's Day on Monday. I have plans to go green on Monday and you can't go green on Valentine's Day. Let's do Sunday.
Wait! We have to go to the circus first. Holy moly. I love the circus.
How do they get seven motorcycles zipping around each other inside a sixteen-foot Globe of Steel? Eve doesn't know, but she assures me that she's never going to do that...again.
Daniel wants everything under the sun. I thought the children would be pleased with my offering of popcorn, lemonade, and M&Ms. Daniel wants everything for sale on a stick.
Daniel: I want that!
Daniel: Why not?
Me: Because I don't have any money to buy you that.
Daniel: You need to use your credit card.
Me: How do you know about credit cards??
Daniel: I learned it from Charlie Brown.
No more Chuck Brown in this house, that's for sure. The TV is only a good babysitter if it's not teaching your kids to ruin their credit before they even get to college and have the opportunity to apply for a credit card for a free t-shirt and 2-liter bottle of Coke.
After the circus, I went to my favorite grocery store, which also happens to sell underwear and weed-killer, to buy ingredients for our early Valentine's Day dinner. I prepped the food and Matt prepared it. He had the laptop next to him so he could follow the recipe from our favorite food pornographer, the Pioneer Woman. The chicken cacciatore gets me back up to pre-Superbowl weight.
And nom nom nom. Matt, I'm asking you here in public on the internets to please make me some more glorified fried chicken before the month is out. I'm doing this big walk so I'll have burned a lot of calories by then.
And how about some chocolate mousse with strawberries for dessert?
I wouldn't know. I passed out during our traditional Valentine's horror movie before I got to eat it. I think our Rocky Horror Cupcake Night did me in.
Speaking of sleeping, this is how I found Eve that night:
Yes, her right foot is on the ground, with weight on it. The only reason I felt compelled to take a picture of it is because it reminded me of the time Natalie got stuck behind her headboard and fell asleep standing up. I need to find that picture for you. Yes, I took a picture of it before I woke her up. It's not like she was going anywhere.
A year ago we were getting ready to radiate Eve's guts. Now we're just trying to keep said guts on the bed.
Natalie celebrated her 100th day of kindergarten by gluing 100 marshmallows to a poster board. So, 100 days x 45 minutes = 75 hours in the van round-trip in the afternoons so far this school year.
Nom nom nom.