Some are blogs of epicurean creations.
Some are blogs of organizational genius.
Some are blogs of photography inspiration and tutorials.
Some are blogs of domestic creativity and amazing home decor.
Some are blogs on life, in general.
Some are blogs on parenting.
Of those parenting blogs -- some are "sunshine and roses" and some are more like a hard-core dose of reality. Mine, I fear, would fall into the latter category. It's no secret that I do not sugar coat much of anything -- not with my friends, not with my boys and not with my blog. Life is -- what it is.
So, I thought I'd give you a dose of what it's like at MY house with an almost three-year-old.
- The diffuser for my hair dryer is in the family room floor. It has been used as a megaphone all day.
- There are two or three blankets shoved under the coffee table in the family room now covered in dust and dog hair because apparently, it's more fun to shove them places and then ask ME to find them than it is to -- I don't know... keep up with your shit. (We're still searching for the "green binkie" which went missing three days ago.)
- There are two spatulas upstairs. I don't want to even speculate what those were used for. Don't worry, I will wash them before putting them back in the drawer.
- My bed is full of cookie crumbs... and sprinkles. Don't ask... he knows how to open doors now.
- There is a plastic lizard in my closet.
- There are three missing sippy cups, probably full of sour milk somewhere throughout the house... slowly leaking.
- The playroom looks as if an atom bomb were detonated moments ago. Shelves emptied, drawers emptied and overturned, chocolate milk spilled on the beanbag...and don't even get me started on the carpet.
- I found a Lego man's head in my closet.
- My make-up powder and blending brushes have been used to paint the shower door.
- Shelves have been emptied of books upstairs in the book nook. I tried to replace them just once today.
- He used a Q-tips to clean his ear... and then proceeded to put it back in the container. My inner germaphobe tells me they should all be disposed of but I didn't. Shhhhhh, don't tell anyone.
- There is a pirate ship in the dining room.
- There is a missing basketball on top of my cabinets in the kitchen.
- There are HARD dried clementine peels thrown about the entire downstairs... if you cut your foot, I'm sorry. This is another reason I always wear shoes.
Let me answer. NO... NO HE IS NOT.
He empties his basket. I empty mine. Without ANY warning, he BOLTS FOR THE DOOR. Luckily, the IN door doesn't open from the INSIDE. I scoop him up and tell him he has to push the buttons so that we can pay.
Seriously, it's like "squirrel" with his attention span at times.
You want a clearer picture? I've got ZERO patience, two bags of groceries, a tantrum and a runaway bottle of water. I'm irritated. What do I do? What any mom should.... I scooped his ass up like a 40 pound bag of sand and throw him over my shoulder... screaming, hitting, kicking and crying. Yes I did. I squatted down, picked up the bottle of water.... tossed it in the bag and walked to the car. Strapped him in. Shut the door.