Farewell, old friend.

 Yesterday this cute, harmless little fellow...

  

...threw a bottle of nail polish at my computer

and did THIS to my iMac. 

(the same boy who did THIS and killed my iPhone a few months ago.) 

Does "murderous rage" resonate with anyone? Because I felt it. I was homicidal. 

My first instinct was to toss him out the window. 

My second instinct was to put him on the side of the road in a cardboard box marked "free." 

Next came the overwhelming instinct to drown my pain by guzzling a bottle of vodka. Which is a non-existent item in my LDS household, so no luck there. (I prefer to self-medicate with chocolate or carbs.)

I settled for curling into the fetal position & bawling my eyes out.

And yes, I am currently blogging on this cracked screen at this very moment. I feel like I'm looking at the gateway to "Inception," or maybe staring at a visual representation of the fractal theory. Not good for the psyche at 2:17am. 

I'm quite positive looking at this screen had something to do with the Sunday nap dream I had of all my teeth cracking and falling out. 

Fa La La La La...Fell into the Toilet

I am happy to report that the stuffing of the fourth grade take-home folders yesterday was uneventful. I pulled it off without a hitch, due largely (totally) to the fact that the toddler stayed home and, instead of wreaking havoc upon the 4th graders, wreaked havoc in his natural habitat.


December has been a flurry of activity and mishaps. Treat making, house decorating, advent activity-ing, gingerbread cookie-ing, hand slicing, burning hot melted chocolate in aforementioned wound...


(yes. I spilled 3,000 degree chocolate over the cut on my sliced-up finger. It was like a twisted Freddie Kreuger Hallmark Movie.)


...errand running, to-and-from Idaho road-tripping, Christmas cards in the Costco shopping cart leaving, English toffee making, sick children nursing, in-laws for a week visiting, basketball game-ing, guitar lesson-ing, Chili's Night with friends celebrating, boys haircutting, Christmas plays at school watching, visiting teaching, birthday partying, game nighting, HOUSE CLEANING (which lasted for 2.5 seconds), list-making, freezer dinner flurrying (I made 10 dinners and stocked my freezer), present wrapping, almost-getting-my-power-shut-off panicking, card addressing (someone turned my cards into the Costco info desk when they found them abandoned in a cart), phone in toilet dropping (Jack strikes again)....


...lots of that kind of stuff.


Sadly, I do not have any photos to add to this documentation because I take pictures with my phone. 


The same phone that was kerplunked into the toilet by my toddler. 


The same toddler that is now for sale. 

Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing

Every Monday morning I show up bright and early (9:20am), dressed to impress and cheery as can be (sweaty running clothes and slightly groggy) to do the Monday Folders for Isabelle’s class at school. It is my job to stuff the childrens’ folders with approximately 217 papers each…sign-ups for the school play, classroom weekly newsletter, PTA reminders, and the like.

This is a great gig because for 30 short minutes I can monitor Isabelle’s behavior, get a read on her social skills, shoot the occasional evil eye at the classroom bully and eavesdrop on the teacher.

Yesterday, for the first time, I took the toddler. 

Yesterday was not a great gig.

I thought surely Jack would sit in the reading corner, happy to experience a bean bag for the first time, read a book and watch the students. He did! For about three minutes, until he spotted Isabelle. Evidently, Jack did not understand this is where his big sister disappears to every day.

         “Sis!” he shouted happily, and ran to her desk.  He wanted to sit on her lap, explore the wonders of her (messy) desk and chill with the boys on either side of her.

Pretending to be invisible—which I was not...all 24 kids were highly amused—I patiently dragged him back to the beanbag and plopped several engaging books in his lap.

Jack again escaped to her desk, I pulled him away, got 2 papers inserted into folders, Jack escaped again, I pulled him back…you get the picture.

Finally, he pretended to just stay on the beanbag. Until I turned my back and was lulled into complacency, stuffing maybe a grand total of 3 folders. Then he quietly got off the beanbag, sneaked around behind me THE LONG WAY, behind the teacher’s desk, and then ran full speed to Isabelle—watched by 24 children with bated breath.

         “Sis!” he called, “Hewwp!” (help) The class erupted in laughter—of the Little Rascals variety. (someone please tell me you know what I mean by that.)

Meanwhile, I was DRESSED IN LAYERS. And I had forgotten that the school keeps the thermostat at what surely must be 940 degrees. We were providing quite the entertainment—and I was getting sweatier by the moment. Steam was coming off my head, from heat and toddler-induced grizzlement.

Somehow all the folders got stuffed, while I was trying unsuccessfully to stifle my exasperation, and I sped over to the cubbies to throw all the folders into the kids’ respective slots and get the crap out of there. 

It was at this point that Jack discovered the recess bin. The bin that holds all the 4-square balls. The balls that bounce really high. And make a loud, echo-y “BOING!” noise.

         “BOING!”

         “BOING!”

         “BOING!”         

“BOING!”

         “BOING!”

         “BOING!”

Seriously, no less than six balls were sent bouncing in quick succession all over the classroom like pinballs. With ensuing Little Rascals laughter.

I tossed the few remaining folders on the teacher’s desk and got the heck out of there. Straight to McDonald’s, where Jack got an ice cream (don’t judge my negative reinforcement) and I downed a XL Diet Coke in 37 seconds flat.

And my final thought is this: Good thing Isabelle's class had a substitute that day.