Back Home Again in Indiana
Boogs was dying over the weekend. I’m dying now. Jesse’s probably dying tomorrow. The timing works out since he has a paper due Sunday. What I’m saying is PRAY FOR ME. And also send wine. Maybe some Dayquil, too (I’m not confused – Dayquil is like Nyquil for me).
Sunday we were going to go to the Indiana State Museum to check out the poison exhibit (I’m still not clear if it’s a how to or what), but, despite sleeping until 9 and taking a 90 minute nap at 10:30, Boogser looked ready to pass out at lunch so we went to the library instead. He was playing with the magnetic letters on the whiteboard, and Jesse started to move some of them around to spell words which did not go over well. Boogs swatted him away and said, “No. I boss. I boss.” I am both proud and terrified of this tiny little tyrant we’re raising. He also screamed his fool head off as we were leaving so that was another proud parenting moment.
You know what else makes you feel like a super great parent? When you’re out of apples and your child keeps requesting apples at every meal. No, tiny human, you can’t have an apple, but can I interest you in some poor man’s Cheezits?
Last Friday was the Halloween carnival at school, and unlike last year, we put in an appearance. It was actually a pretty supafly event. They had games set up in the gym (one was run by his absolute favorite teacher so he kept wanting to go back to that), cookies in the cafeteria, trick or treating in the hall, and Halloween crafts in one of the classrooms. True to form, this child mostly just wanted us to carry him to wherever he pointed. Trick or treating on Halloween went pretty much the same way. We only went to 3 of the neighbors’ houses and the rest of the time he just wandered around on the driveway two fisting KitKats that he never actually ate. At some point an ambulance rolled into the neighborhood handing out candy which Boogs thought was pretty great. Is this an Indiana thing or what is this? Jesse and I had never seen it before. . .and are a little bitter our childhood Halloweens never involved ambulance candy.
Is anyone else’s kid obsessed with their jacket/coat? Boogs will see his, point at it, say “jacket” 2,936,527,353 times, and then want to put it on. When we get home from school, he doesn’t want to take it off. He threw a fit the other day when I made him take it off to eat dinner. Either he’s a tiny little weirdo or he’s just cold all the time like me.
I scheduled Boogser’s first dentist appointment for the day after his 2 year doctor appointment. Worst mom ever. I also attempted to be a grown up and schedule a doctor’s appointment for myself and managed to make it for the day before Thanksgiving. So now I have to reschedule it, but I have to wait a few days because I’m pretty sure the chick I talked to already thinks I’m an idiot. Note to self: when a date sounds familiar, check a calendar.
Jesse’s getting Foo Fighters tickets for Christmas. It’s fine – he already knows (and he never reads this). It was a whole thing getting these damn tickets. He sent me the presale link and code, and right at 10 in the am I was there with Boogs throwing crackers at my head as it told me all that was left were lawn seats. Then there were no seats. Then there were lawn seats. I texted him to see how badly he wanted to go to this show (we’ve both decided we’re too old for the lawn), and he said to forget about it. But instead I put Boogs down for a nap and kept hitting refresh to no avail. Then he texted me saying he had tickets so I gave up my quest. Then he texted me saying the site crashed and he lost said tickets. Back to the online I went. Two minutes later he texted me again saying he had tickets for real this time. It was a real rollercoaster and a good reminder why I could never have a real job; the stress would kill me.