blame it on the cliche

Alternate title in the running was "how to kill a blog...and try to bring it back from the dead with one ramble of a post sprinkled with a family portrait."

Let's go.

I'm feeling a little rusty. And reckless...abandoning ship for a week? Who cares? I know, not a soul! (Hi mom...I'm not including you in that. :))

Anyway, the break was unintentional, but between another round of Rhett's asthma/bronchitis giving us a run for the sleep we are already craving we were living somewhere between super survival mode and gum-on-a-sidewalk mode.

^^^Crouching tiger parents...clearly. With our bottle happy two year old...^^^

So. What's been going on around here?

More of the same!

Sometimes I'm surprised at the level of cliche/suburban/parent/humans we are. Good grief we are SO cliche. But honestly I kind of love it. I can appreciate a good cliche even if it puts me in the tired mom/occasional nagging wife/yoga pant wearing category.

Examples...

I drive a minivan and I don't like it. I love it.

It's habitual for my 4pm face to look identical to my 7am face. Like absolute hell.

I don't say, "going to the bathroom" ever. It's an automatic, "going potty" every single time.

I probably say, "I'm just really tired" to whomever will listen 99 times a day.

As far as kids and their attire goes - I have a strict, "no stain - no change" policy that can last a scary number of consecutive day-night-day-night-day-night-I-can-keep-going-I-assure-you.

When the kids are awake the world is one mini tantrum away from crumbling into a million pieces and promptly ending. When the kids are asleep, yes of course this is the easiest job in the world.

I used a pumice stone to clean our toilet bowls a few weeks ago and have gone into the bathroom to admire my toil every single day since. Shoot it feels good to be an efficient homemaker.

Every morning I open a nice can of diet soda. And every night Jake finds it sitting on the counter with exactly two sips gone.

Sometimes I wear my yogas and a hoodie and a puffy face to buy groceries because who really cares? And sometimes I wear a painted face, an outfit that's trying far too hard, and Saturday night in college hair to buy groceries because I do.

I brown some meat, chop some tomatoes + avocados + onions, open a container of sour cream, a package of tortillas and a can of salsa and oh, look! It's gourmet taco Monday. Leftovers will follow for the next two nights if I can't stretch it to three (where we say hello to gourmet nachos).

Showers when I'm home alone with the kids: three minutes. Showers when Jake is home to watch the kids: twenty three minutes.

Good grief...so cliche. :)