Monday, April 14, 2014

My Big, Fat Mouth

"Afraid? Honey, I named my poodle Risk just so I could embrace it. Good boy, Risk."

Morning Readers,

A couple of days ago, the twins found a thirty-five count pack of envelopes in my room, opened it, and sealed every, last one. I now have zero envelopes.

Ok, now that we've gotten last week's parenting high point out of the way, let's take a look at the low, lowest, and HiddenValley parenting moment as of late.

"I'm too afraid to let the kids play with my iPad. I'm sure they'll break it."

As we stood in the lush, green grass of our cousin's yard, watching the kids step on each other to go down the slide first, I looked over and shook my head my sister-in-law. "Nah, the kids won't break it. I let the baby use ours to watch shows while I get dressed. If I don't, he stares at me or tries to burn the house down."

"You do?"

I nodded. "Those things are tough. You know what your hangup is? Reason. And a healthy fear of actual dangers. I don't let things like the fact my kids break everything hold me back from doing the things I want to do, like pick out clean underwear."

"Hmm, I see."

"Yep, the Paige Kellerman motto for living is, "That probably won't happen." I run unbridled. Like a stallion. Or maybe a mare because I'm also a lady."

Back splash day, I'd waited to conquer it for weeks. The day after I talked to my sister-in-law, I took the kids to the hardware store, bought supplies, and hoofed it home to turn the horrific peach tile behind the sink a lovely white. Life was about to look a little more like the Febreze commercial I knew it could be.

"Now then, children. Your mother has taped off the kitchen and will now attempt to cheaply re-do it so someone will buy it."

*Children blinking and not caring*

"Here's the iPad. The baby is watching his show first. Please get along while I figure out whether I bought oil-based paint or not."

Confidently, I returned to the kitchen and began prying cans open. I'd just confirmed I'd either purchased oil-based paint or really fancy glue, when the fight broke out.

"It's mine.
"No, it's mine."
"Nooooo! Moooooooooooom! The baby threw it!"

Silently, I prayed, "Dear Steve Jobs, if you can hear me now, please ask Jesus to not let the iPad be broken. Amen."

But it was too late. Where the should've been an apple icon, there was only darkness.

The good news is I got the back splash painted. The bad news is we're down an iPad and I still have to go get more envelopes ...and I'll be using half of them to shove in my big, fat mouth.

Until Next Time, Readers!


  1. Replies
    1. I'm holding out hope it can be fixed, but only the teensiest bit of hope. Le sigh.

  2. Tell your SIL that you never win the lotto. Then go buy a lotto ticket.
    Don't ya love how kids seem to exist only to proove us wrong? meh.

    1. They prove me wrong every day. Like the huge lie I used to tell everyone, "Me? I'm a really patient person." Yeah, right...LOL

  3. On the bright side, I bet your new back splash looks so pretty!!!!

    (Just trying to focus on the positive here...)

    1. Actually, it did turn out pretty, darn good, so there is definitely a bright side. If only I could fix the iPad with my mad painting skills. And by mad, I mean slightly passable.

  4. "That probably won't happen" is how I live my life too! Loved the Febreze reference. If only life could look like a smell and smell like a look.

    1. I want my life to look and smell like Febreze, but it usually looks and smells more like poop.

  5. I want to send you sympathy envelopes, but I'm a little too busy being scared of that fact that you are brave enough to take your children into a hardware store. I love you anyway.

    1. I think it's sheer desperation that gets me to drag them to the hardware store. Sacrifices must be made in the name of turning this house into something that's move-in ready? The question mark there is on purpose.