"You serious, Clark?"

Something you may not know about me - I never "check" Facebook. While I am on there all the time, I am only on my wall. I will post something random, and Facebook will send me a notification, when someone comments. Other than that, I do not go to anyone's Wall or scroll through my News Feed. The only chance anyone has of me seeing something they post is if it is at the VERY top of my Feed, and I notice it, before I close the app.

Last night, this happened with one of my friend's. Her post caught my attention (as it was a picture that I did not expect to see). Once I investigated, I discovered it was a Facebook prank. The instructions asked women to send the below picture to their husband/boyfriend, ask him to choose which color he wanted for his Christmas pajamas, screenshot his response, and then post it.

Upon reading the comments and reactions under my friend's original post ("Never!" "Only if I can go commando!" "If you are saying I never have to wear pants again, I am in!" An emoji of the middle finger!), I found myself laughing and wondering how my husband would react, if I sent it to him. While we joke and harass in my family, we are not a prank family. The only exception is that my girls LOVE to hide fake spiders around the house, so that I lose my absolute shit, when I unexpectedly find one!! However, as it pertains to my husband, we never prank one another. Honestly, I do not even know if one would consider this a prank. For me, I just thought it would be something he would laugh at and send back a simple, "Very funny!" What I did NOT expect was the following.

This man actually sent me HIS COLOR PREFERENCE!!!! There are NO words! Somehow, I managed to send him a reply.

I cannot remember the last time that I laughed so hard!! APPARENTLY, my husband is straight up TERRIFIED of me!! LMAO! I tried to snap a selfie, but I could not stop hysterically laugh crying! I stood in my bathroom, for a solid 20 minutes, in an attempt to pull myself together! My shirt was completely soaked, where I was wiping away the tears that were uncontrollably streaming down my face! In 16 years of marriage, this could quite possibly be the most entertaining exchange we have ever had with one another!

I think we all know what Warren will be receiving for Christmas, this year! Who knows, perhaps a woman's nightdress will look quite nice on him? At the very least, it will be comfortable. (He is definitely going to need a set of matching slippers, though.)

The Walk

After dinner, I decided I wanted to go for a walk. The first girl I found was Charleston, my five year old. She had her headphones on, so I motioned at her. When she removed them, I said, "Mommy is going to go for a walk. Would you like to come?" "A walk?" Thinking she did not hear me, "Yes, a WALK." "Oooh! Mrs. Bethany (the nanny) has taken me on one of those before! I think I was three. Sure!" (Listen, I realize we have become lazy and complacent, during COVID-19 times, but we are not THAT lazy!!)

Upon talking to all three bigs, I went to the garage to get the stroller ready for Miss Scotland. When I walked back inside the house, I discovered that Charlie had changed, in preparation for the "walk." I took one look at her and said, "No!" She protested, until I said, "It is not THAT type of walk!"

Finally, after all the girls put on comfortable shoes and normal clothing (as normal as we could all agree upon), we embarked on our journey. We walked down our driveway and had not even made it to the house next door, when Campbell said, "Mommy, you have on your pajamas." I looked down and said, "Yeah, I know. Tis the season!" (Honestly, I did not know.)

Apparently, now starts the time, where I am to be judged by my daughters. I knew it was coming. I just thought I had a few years. However, this did make me take an assessment. Two of the four girls looked like straight up war orphans. The third had on leggings that were entirely too short. The baby..well..no one judges a baby (but it was bad). In retrospect, today was probably NOT the best day to make our Neighborhood Walk debut.

We made it just around the first turn on our road, when Charleston said, "Shew! I am building up a sweat!" I said, "We have been walking for SIX minutes." Charlie: "Well, I am HOT! I should have brought water." Campbell, chiming in: "I asked, before we left. She said no!" Charlie: "Why? Mommy has water." Me: "Keep walking, Ladies!" (It was definitely not water.)

We passed our friends, the Bonhams. We walked up an enormous hill and passed my parents' house. Charleston: "How many hours have we walked?!" Campbell: "ZERO!" Charleston: "Then, how many MINUTES??" Riley Mac, looking at my phone: "14!"

A few minutes after that, as we approached the Younts' backyard, one of their dogs started to go nuts. Campbell: "How many dogs do they have?" Me: "A bunch." Cam: "Why do they have so many dogs?" Me: "Because their dogs are like their kids. They have a ton of dogs. I have a ton of kids. Tis the same thing." (Except I bet their dogs do not ask incessant questions all the time.) Charlie: "That dog's name is Lily." Me: "Mmmm." Charlie: "No, it is! They told me." Me: "Okay." Me, whispering to the two bigs: "I bet you $20 that dog's name is NOT Lily!" Charlie (apparently hears like a dog): "YES! IT IS, MOMMY!" Me: "Okay, okay!! Her name is Lily! 'Hi, Lily! How are you?'" Charlie: "I know what you are doing! Her name IS Lily!" Me, acting like she is insane: "What? I know! It is totally Lily! I agree. I was just saying hello!" Charlie: "Call Laura, right now! Her name is Lily!!" Me: "Yep. I totally will." Me, absolutely not calling Laura: "She did not answer, but I for sure think you are right."

Two seconds later, we arrived at the Campbell residence. Charleston, a few paces behind the group: "Mommy, may I walk without my shoes on?" Me: "No, Honey. The road will hurt your feet." Charlie: "No, it does not. I have already been testing it." I looked back, to see Charlie carrying one shoe (just for shits and giggles). Me: "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! PUT YOUR SHOE BACK ON! THIS IS A ROAD! WE HAVE NO IDEA WHERE IT HAS BEEN!!" (I guess I think blacktops can contract STDs.)

We walked the entire subdivision and back around, all the way to the end of our driveway. Unfortunately, our driveway goes straight uphill. (The grade never bothered me, until we finished building, moved in, and I went to get our mail that first day. I almost died!) I am guessing it is close to 200 feet in length, at a 35/40 degree angle. (I am absolutely measuring this, tomorrow.) As we stood at the end, I said, "This walk was NOTHING compared to what this driveway is about to be, Girls! Brace yourself!" Riley Mac: "I think we can do it." Me, my competitive self suddenly emerging: "Ooooh..not only can we do it, but I can do it the fastest!"

Before I knew it, I was counting to three, and we all started sprinting up an INSANELY loooong, angled hill! While gasping for air and pushing a stroller, I shouted at Mac, who was directly beside me, "I am NOT stopping! Do not let your MOTHER beat you!" (The damn thing beat me, but by less than two feet!) Mac and I turned to the others, who were 15 and 20 feet behind us, "You two should be ASHAMED of yourselves!!" Me, bent over, praying I did not have a heart attack, but still capable of throwing shade: "Mommy just BEAT you, while pushing a STROLLER, with a VERY squishy baby!!" Charlie: "My shoe fell off!" Me: "KEEP THOSE DAMN SHOES ON!!!" Campbell: "My legs are the shortest!" Me: "Fair point!" Mac: "I won! That is all I know!" Me: "Want to know what *I* know? You will NOT beat me, next week!"

Soooo...now, I am back to old myself and on an exercise regimen. It has been WAAAAY too long! I am coming for you, Weight Loss and Four Young Girls! I.AM.COMING.FOR.YOU.ALL!! (After this chocolate chip cookie and wine, of course.)

Virtual School is another name for Satan.

Today was hard. Upon reflection, I have handled the majority of virtual school with poise and grace. I have held my head high and persevered. I was doing great, because I knew there was a light at the end of the tunnel. September 28, 2020 was to be my salvation. This decision was solidified, on Thursday evening, when the school announced all was a go. Not even 36 hours later, the decision was reversed. As the automation was blaring across my house (Thank you for that, Alexa), there was nothing I could do to stop the impending doom. The school was calling to announce that even though they were not supposed to "check" our local COVID-19 numbers again, until NEXT Thursday, they had and decided to CONTINUE with virtual school.

I tried to maintain my composure, which is typically not hard, as I am NOT an emotional person. I am always rock solid. Even when I am not, I internalize so that no one on the outside "sees" my emotion. However, at that moment, I could not stop the tears from developing. I knew I had five pairs of eyes staring at me - my mother (who was sportingly helping my girls bedazzle denim jackets for an 80s party), my baby (who has been nothing but short of forgotten, since virtual school has started), and my three school-aged girls (waiting to see how bad said announcement was to be interpreted). 

While the school recording was playing (in her annoying monotone voice), I tried desperately to mask her announcement with, "Girls, this is NO big deal! There is NOTHING we can do about it, so we may as well make the BEST of it! Fortunately, we have a TUBULAR 80s party about to happen, with the American Girl crew! We got this! We are fine. It is fine. EVERYTHING is fine!!" 

My eight year old shrugged her shoulders and continued to bedazzle her jacket. However, when I glanced up at my fifth grader, I could see the tears uncontrollably streaming down her face. She was not convinced by my feigned enthusiasm. She was experiencing the worst cry a woman can experience - the silent sob. (Trust me, Male Counterparts. The silent sob is WAAAY worse than the verbal freak out! The silent sob means something has cut us to the very core. We are broken. We do not even have the will to scream about it.) I walked up to her and squeezed her tight and told her it was going to be okay. My mother put her gem heating element down and walked over to hug her, as well. Despite the hugs, she sat there crying, while the tears quietly ran down her face. In a hushed tone, she said to no one in particular, "I really wanted to go to school." At that moment, I noticed my Kindergartener crying, too. (As a parent, there is nothing that compares to the pain of watching your child/ren hurting, while knowing there is ZERO you can do about it. Complete devastation.) There was nothing else to do, but what I have taught my girls to do their entire lives. (What my mother taught me.) KEEP GOING! We had a TOTALLY RAD party, enjoyed our weekend, and prepared ourselves for yet another week of online learning.

I really thought we were ready for the day! We had finished all our assignments on Friday, including the bonus material. We had unpacked our backpacks. We had our Chromebooks charged and logged in. We had a "BRING IT ON" mentality! (I say "we" and "our," as there is no way in hell that these children can do virtual school all by themselves, no matter what some teachers may think! My girls, like every other kid I know, were NOT trained to do school on a Chromebook!) 

Nevertheless, despite what I thought was the DEFINITION OF PREPAREDNESS, it became BLATANTLY clear that WE.WERE.NOT! One teacher started to grade a lesson that had not even been assigned, another accidentally deleted an assignment the students did last week (so she had to reassign and request all the students redo), and two teachers returned assignments because of RIDICULOUS SHIT! STOP ASKING THESE STUDENTS TO UPLOAD PICTURES THAT HAVE NOOOTHING TO DO WITH SCHOOL!! ASK THEM ACTUAL *EDUCATIONAL* QUESTIONS! If one more teachers says, "The pictures you uploaded were great, but I was really looking for a screenshot of Page 27, Section 3, Paragraph 17, Word 2...not Word 3. Please, resubmit," I AM GOING TO LOOOOSE IT!! Or, like today, "Your answer was marked incorrect, because the key is set to lowercase and you capitalized the first letter in your ONE word answer." (I mean, ARE YOU EFFIN' SERIOUS, RIGHT NOW?!?!?! I CANNOT EVEN!!!)

I think the icing on the cake was that even though we have been patient (which is NOT my forte) in acknowledging that the teachers know exactly as much as we do about Chromebooks and online learning (NOT A DAMN THING), one teacher got online and blasted the children, stating that she was not going to hold their hands, they should know how to do this by now, and blah, blah, blah. (My blood pressure spiked to such a high that I could no longer hear what she was saying! WE HAVE BEEN PATIENT WITH TEACHERS! THEY NEED TO BE PATIENT WITH PARENTS AND STUDENTS!!!) I think I would have handled it better, if we were NOT supposed to have been attending school in-person today AND the lecture was about the students not completing assignments or "attending" lectures. BUT OH HELLLL NO!!! This was about uploading screenshots and camera shots and clicking "MARK AS DONE" on this platform BUT NEVER clicking it on the other (because that program alerts teachers, so you are unnecessarily informing teachers MORE THAN ONCE that your assignment is complete). 

Let me tell you about camera shots, Educators! Guess how many people it takes to snap (what you believe to be) a "simple" camera shot of a page in Simple Solutions??? TWO EFFIN' PEOPLE!! I am not sure what tactic others have found to be successful, but in this household, we have found it takes a parent to hold up the heavy textbook, while the child looks from the side at the computer screen to ensure the portion of the page one is wanting to snap is centered on the camera. Then, the child clicks the round button, to take the actual picture. AFTER THAT, teachers insist that we pull up the image, crop it, RENAME it, save it, upload it, and submit it. **BASHING MY HEAD AGAINST A WALL**

Buuut..we do it, TO THE BEST OF OUR ABILITIES (because it is the assignment and the world we now live in), ONLY to have the teacher reply with one of these statements: you used the wrong color ink, you are to name it SS #1 not Simple Solutions #1, you wrote your words past the pink line on the right side of the lined paper, how do you know 12 x 2 is 24 (BECAUSE YOU MADE THEM LEARN THEIR MULTIPLICATION TABLE TWO YEARS AGO!), or I wanted a shiny unicorn in the background of your photo upload (not the family cat, apparently).

I know it sounds like I am hating on the teachers. As I live and breathe that is NOT my intention! I have had a good rapport and relationship, WITH EVERY SINGLE TEACHER MY GIRLS HAVE EVER HAD, THROUGHOUT THE COURSE OF THEIR EDUCATION, THUS FAR! (This may change, once they read this.) I KNOW how hard this has been for them, because I KNOW how hard it has been for us. (I LOVE YOU, TEACHERS!! I DO! I PROMISE WE WILL BE FRIENDS, IF WE EVER MEET!) I am just SO EFFIN' FRUSTRATED! Due to the stress of virtual school, I am getting absolutely NOTHING accomplished, in my personal or professional life, and I am clearly FAILING AT VIRTUAL SCHOOL! My days are CONSUMED with the notification beeps of Google Classroom on my phone, with one of my girls calling me at work because the posted assignment is not working or the assignment is so unnecessarily complicated (in the way in which it is to be submitted, not the work itself), or with someone melting down due to the stress of it all! (Today, it was ME!) 

WE ARE SOOOO TIRED! We have always been a "get up off the floor and try again family, do not cry unless you are bleeding, never let anyone tell you that you cannot do something," but we are exhausted from getting constantly knocked down! My girls are straight A students; yet, we are barely surviving this online horseshit! WE.ARE.STRUGGLING!! 

While it has been bubbling at the surface, I have been outstanding at shoving that shit waaaay down (or drowning it with liquor). I truly did not realize just how bad life and anxiety levels had become, until I walked past the breakfast area and had to do a double take. If you know me, I run my ship to the damn SECOND! I am HIGHLY scheduled, HIGHLY OCD, and HIGHLY organized! Under normal circumstances, I would NEVER allow anyone to see this train wreck (mainly because this almost never happens, but also because I do not like to show weakness). I exemplify "put togetherness." (Shut the hell up! I can make up whatever phrases and terminologies I wish, as this is MY blog!) Yet, I have decided to make an exception, as I feel there are other parents out there that need to know they are NOT ALONE! (Plus, focusing on the insanity forced me to laugh, rather than cry. A 'nuts she has gone and lost it' laugh, but a laugh, nonetheless! Furthermore, as I am sitting here, I have somehow gotten - Gotten? Got? Who the hell cares, anymore? - the laptop charger cord wrapped around my ankle and cannot seem to break free!!)

EXHIBIT A THROUGH J...

A. I was bouncing back and forth, to such a degree, that there was no time to care about chair placement. (Willy nilly, up in here!)

B. The closed laptop is an illusion. (Mommy slammed it closed in frustration, not due to the completion of assignments.)

C. The dollar bills? Not a strip club. I paid off the youngest one to try her best and stay FOCUSED. (Bitch, please! Do NOT judge me! As if you have never!!)

D. LOOK AT THOSE MOFO RED PENS!! WE ALL HAVE THEM, NOW! (Impressed much?!)

E. Books and binders are open, as we have lost the will to even close them.

F. What is in the insulated cup? (NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUISNESS!!)

G. Speaking of insulated cups, your child's felt piece of fabric that serves as a makeshift dry erase marker eraser works FABULOUSLY as a coaster! (PRO TIP!)

H. When did we move into the new house? What sort of question is that?! (Ooooh..the boxes in the corner? THOSE are none of your damn business, either!)

I. Hmm...I wonder why I even own that cake stand, in the corner. I have never baked a circular cake in my life! It is always a 9x13 or cupcakes. ???

J. The plastic baggie on the bench? That is simply so that I may smother myself, when the time comes.

The Blue Slope

Last week, my girls had an extended weekend. Ergo, I took the big three skiing. For those who know my girls, it is no surprise that each of them have VERY different approaches, to the sport.

RILEY MAC: She is fearless and aims to be the best, at everything she does. She picked up skiing the very first slope she tackled, which was last year. She came back, this year, as if she has been skiing her entire life!

CAMPBELL: She is EXCELLENT, at skiing! Not because she has any real skill, but because she is short, low to the ground, and solid. Her body was built for skiing, so while she also picked it up with ease the first time, Campbell is still Campbell. She is cautious, thoughtful, and NEVER goes into something, without thinking it through. She likes her Green Slope and has zero desire to attempt more difficult ones.

CHARLESTON: LORD, HAVE MERCY! She is Charleston, even when skiing! She is a FORCE of nature! She has no fear and went down the slopes, last year, as if there was NO danger!! She was afraid of NOTHING and, due to her height, was easily able to balance herself on the skis. However, this year, she just had a day. She was all excited, til I clipped her into her skis. Then, she flat out decided she was NOT going to ski and was NOT going to have a good time! (Silly girl does not realize this is NOT Mommy's first rodeo, and she CANNOT break me!) So, I did what any good mother would do, in this situation. I dragged her ass up those slopes, over and over and OVER! I shoved her down and made her ski, until **I** decided we were done! (It mattered not to me that everyone could hear her wailing, as I gave her a "gentle" push and she swooshed down the mountainside - Every Single Time.)

That was the tone of the day. Riley Mac was excelling and begging to move, onto more adventurous slopes. Campbell was doing phenomenal, but was NOT interested in moving off her "safety" slope. Charleston cried the entire time, as I lugged her by her ski coat, and insisted she WAS having an EFFIN' BLAST!! (OH YES, YOU ARE, MY DEAR!!)

Somehow - some way - Riley Mac and I convinced Campbell to move to the moderate Blue Slope. (It truly is not that scary. Yes, it is steeper, which means you go faster, but the slope itself is not challenging.) She was ready! I had watched her ski all day, without once falling!

Due to the fact that I could not take Charlie on this advanced slope, I sent Mac and Cam on the lift alone. While they made their way up the slope, I helped Charlie ski over to my friend, who had decided to take a break. When I returned to the bottom, I saw Mac zooming down. She met me at the bottom, stopping about 15 feet in front of me. She skied over, and we stood side by side, watching Cam descent.

Cam was DOING it!! She was skiing, with grace and poise. (She looked FANTASTIC!) Mac and I were screaming, at the top of our lungs, "Go, Campbell, GOOOO!! You are doing AWESOME!! We are so PROUD! You are AHHH-MAZING! WHOOOAA!!!" She was nearing the bottom, heading a little more toward the orange fence (that lattice thing held up by ski poles) than I liked. I said to Mac, through the side of my mouth "She really needs to turn right." We both shouted, "TURN RIGHT, CAM!! RIIIIIGHT! YESSSSS! THAT IS IT! GO, CAMPB..." Mac and I, at the same time, "OOOOOOOOOOOOH!"

I was only 20 feet away, but somehow, two medics (from two different directions) beat me to her. Campbell had ran right into the very last pole. Her left ski got stuck in the fence, causing her to do a full aerial (on her head) and land face down! Both skis were ripped off, as Cam lie sobbing, in the snow.

As the Medics and I discovered, Cam was completely fine. As we were all helping her up and back into her skis, the male Medic asked, "Are you sure she is okay?" "Yes, Sir! It just scared the hell out of her!" "Well, If I am being honest, it scared the hell out of me, too," he said! *laughter*

Of course, Mac and I approached this circumstance the way the Windham/Gardner family handles this sort of thing - through humor and repetition. If you fall, you get back up. If you fail, you try again. And no matter what, you LAUGH! Therefore, while Cam was begging not to go, we grabbed her and said, "We are all going to try, again!"

While on the lift, Cam had stopped crying, but tears were still streaming down her cheeks. Naturally, Riley and I were trying to cheer her up. We were explaining how funny it was that we were both cheering for her, but at the EXACT SAME TIME said, "OOOOOOOOOH," upon the crash! We were telling her how proud Mrs. Leslie and Lori (her gymnastics coaches) would have been, as her aerial was a Perfect 10 (maybe an 11)! Cam was only half-way amused, but giggled at the Leslie/Lori comment.

After Riley Mac finished telling Campbell the story, of what we witnessed at the bottom of the slope (in ANIMATED, RILEY MAC detail), she said, "So, that is what we saw, Campbell! What about you? What did YOU see?!" Campbell, without missing a beat, said, "SNOW! Lots of snow!" The three of burst into hysterical laughter! We talked about how she was, now, a walking advertisement for the reasons why one must ALWAYS wear a helmet, and how gymnastics can (apparently) save your life. Then, we hopped off the lift and went down together, all three making it to the bottom, with ease.

While this story is meant for entertainment, a lot of things can be learned from it. Yes, safety is key! (WEAR YOUR HELMET, PEOPLE!!) However, it also shows that, sometimes, your first attempt may land you face first in the snow. Do not let that define your NEXT attempt. Furthermore, just because you are afraid, it does not mean you should back down. Fear often precedes success. Finally, more can be accomplished, with a good support system, than without. Surround yourself with people, who encourage you and who believe in you (...and who are always willing to make fun of you!!).

Parenthood is easier with girls.

I have so many friends and family out there, who desperately wished this fourth baby was a boy. Some wanted me to know the joy that "only a mother and son bond" can bring. Others admitted to just flat out wanting me to experience what the other side is like, when it comes to raising a rambunctious and destructive boy. However, life can be crazy over here, too, even if we have been blessed with all girls. Take this weekend, for example...

On Saturday morning, Riley Mac woke up with complaints of a splitting headache, sore throat, and a 102 fever. It quickly spiked to 104, prompting us to cool her down in the tub, start antibiotics for strep, and keep her quarantined (as to not infect her pregnant mother or two siblings). She was made comfortable in her bedroom, given all weekend access to her iPad, and waited on hand and foot.

Naturally, during this time, Warren and I cleaned the entire house, top to bottom. Over the course of two days, we washed 17 loads of laundry and disinfected over 100 light switch panels and door handles. We went through four bottles of 409 and various bathroom cleaners and 12 rolls of Bounty towels. (My knuckles are all cracked and open, and the burning intensifies with each cleaning and hand washing.)

While Mac was "held captive," in her luxurious spa-like bedroom, the other two played together. Campbell and Charleston did great staying out of our way, while we scrubbed toilets and stair rail banisters. However, there were moments of chaos (as there ALWAYS are when Charlie is involved)!

Saturday evening, Campbell came downstairs, to find me in the kitchen spraying 409 on all the cabinet pulls and handles. Quite calmly she asked, "Mommy, is my mouth bleeding?" When she opened her mouth, I had to smother my gasp and pretend her mouth was not FULL of blood! "Umm, yes. Yes, it is." "I thought so," she said. I grabbed a handful of Bounty towels and pressed them to her mouth, in hopes of not only stopping the bleeding, but to figure out WHERE the bleeding was originating. However, when I removed the first fistful of paper towels from her mouth, and Cam saw the extent of her injury, ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE! Where as moments ago, we were all calm and collected, now we were all in some sort of full blown panic mode! Campbell (who is notorious for anxiety spiking at the sight of blood AND for her complete horror at all things involving tooth loss) began to scream, "OH MY GOSH! OH MY GOSH! OH MY GOSH!" 

"No, no! No need to panic! It is OKAY, Cam!! Mouths just bleed more than..." 

"AGHHHHHHHHH!!! NO, MOMMY! NO! I AM BLEEDING! I AM BLEEDING!" 

"YES, I KNOW YOU ARE BLEEDING! JUST...just calm down! You are fine." 

**shrieks of terror** **uncontrollable crying** 

"CAMPBELL, STOP IT! YOU ARE GETTING BLOOD EVERYWHERE!!" (Bad move, on my part, to point that out.)

**sees blood dripping on the floor** **begins to run in complete hysterics** 

"CAMPBELL!! STOP MOVING! I JUST DISINFECTED THIS ENTIRE KITCHEN!! CALM DOWN!"

She ran down the hall, into the half bathroom, and began to half vomit/half spit blood into the bathroom sink that one could have used as a bowl and ate out of (per application of my exceptional disinfectant skills, a mere hour ago)! 

"CAMPBELL! YOU ARE MAKING MOMMY SICK! PLEASE, STOOOP! TWO MINUTES AGO, YOU WERE NOT EVEN CERTAIN THAT YOUR MOUTH *WAS* BLEEDING!!"

(It should be noted, that during this INSANITY, my mother called me - within a span of 40 SECONDS - six times in a row!!! SIX!!!!!!!!)

Once I got her calmed down and cleaned up, she remembered that her mouth did not even hurt, and THEN could not tell me exactly what happened!! "I think Charlie accidentally hit my mouth, with a toy." 

"You THINK? Honey, you were hit with SOMETHING, with enough force to BUST your mouth wide open!?" 

"Huh. I guess so, but I do not know. Can I go back upstairs and play with Charlie?" 

**mouth drops open** **speechless** **Cam rushes back upstairs** I (routinely, at this point) grabbed the chemicals and started to clean and disinfect the entire half bathroom and half of the kitchen, again (thanks to the running around like a complete lunatic).

Sunday arrived, and I took Campbell and Charlie to church and the grocery store, while Warren started to clean Riley Mac's bedroom. Throughout the morning, her fever was still hanging on at 102, so she herself (voluntarily) drew a cool bath and got in. Once the Cs and I got home, and we all had lunch (at staggering intervals, to avoid contact with Riley Mac), I began to 409 all the kitchen chairs and island (for, approximately, the 20th time). When doing so, I heard Warren shout beside me, "CHARLIE! WATCH OUT!!" Two seconds later, a blood curdling scream erupted, followed by pure diva hysteria! Charleston had turned too quickly and walked her eye right into the corner of the island. She hit the kitchen island, with such force, that it threw her back about three feet and sent her flying into the floor. The bruising was instantaneous. The shrill crying lasted for hours. (Fine, minutes, but it FELT like hours.) Warren scooped her up, sat in the floor, cradled her, and attempted to console her. Once she was calm, and the other girls had conducted LENGTHY inquisitions re: what happened to Charlie and if she was okay, we went back to laundry and cleaning.

Riley Mac turned a corner, late Sunday afternoon, and had received almost 48 hours of antibiotics. Ergo, we decided to "release her from captivity" and allow her and her sisters to play and eat dinner together. After dinner, the clean up process began (yet again). Charlie and Campbell, who are both obsessed with vacuuming, ran to get a couple vacuums. Charlie opted for a small hand vac, while Campbell chose the stick Dyson. The deafening sound of two vacuums running in a large kitchen commenced. Then, silence. Then, WAILING AT A LEVEL PREVIOUSLY UNHEARD, THROUGHOUT THE WEEKEND OF HORRORS! When I looked over, Campbell was standing, with her mouth open in shock, holding the stick Dyson across both arms, parallel to the ground. Charlie was lying on the floor under her, with her hands over her face. "IT WAS AN ACCIDENT," Cam finally managed to shout! 

"SHE HIT ME, MOMMY! SHE HIT ME!!"

Cam, getting upset because her little sister was hurt, "It WAS an accident!! I PROMISE!! I DID hit her - WITH the vacuum - BUT IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!!" 

Warren peeled Charleston's hands from her face. (FAN-EFFIN-TASTIC!) On the opposite side of her face, under the OTHER eye, was a SYMMETRICAL bruise to the kitchen island bruise! Cam had picked up the vacuum to carry it back to its storage area, at the same time Charlie had stopped using the hand vac and stood up, causing Cam to literally WHACK Charlie across the face with the stick Dyson. (Given the weight of the vacuum, force of the blow, and the size of Charlie, I am shocked it did not knock her out!) At that point, I told Warren, "We are going to have to keep these kids indoors, for the rest of the week! Someone is going to call Social Services, if they see these children!!" 

"I agree! Charlie looks like she has been in a boxing match!"

"There is NO WAY we can explain this! THE BRUISES MATCH, FOR GOODNESS SAKES!!"

After all was "back to normal," the girls walked over to my parents', to hang for a bit. Knowing she was bound to call, I went ahead and made the first move. I called and told my mother all about what had happened, over the weekend, and how I was jokingly afraid someone was going to "turn us in." Mom, all too excitedly said, "YES, and it will be ME! I am reporting! They will have to come LIVE WITH ME! (Pure enthusiasm, in her voice!) Riley Mac told us how she was LOCKED in her bedroom all weekend AND forced to take COLD baths! Campbell told us her mouth was busted, but that it was no big deal. And we can, CLEARLY, see Charlie's face!! Go ahead and back their bags and send them up. Grandma will take good care of them!"

Fast forward to two hours after the nanny arrived, this morning. She sent me this picture. 

APPARENTLY, when Charlie was slammed to the floor (who knows whether it was the kitchen island incident, vacuum accident, or both), the landing(s) bruised her arm. So, now, my mother and the nanny (BOTH of whom would love to steal my children) are undoubtedly plotting how they can acquire and raise my girls. At least, if one of them succeeds, I have this fourth baby on the way. Perhaps, we can keep this one safe (doubtful). 

...and people think having all girls is easy breezy and constant sunshine and daisies! It can look more like gorgeous blonde and blue flowers that have been TRAMPLED all over and, somehow, (by the grace of God) managed to survive!! The best I can do is offer to pay their future therapy bills.

"My Lovely Lady Lumps"

I went to Walmart, yesterday afternoon. As I was walking out the door, the guy in the yellow vest leaned toward me. (You know the guy. The man - or woman - in yellow, who tries to harass you as you leave the premises, with his/her weaponized highlighter in hand.) When it comes to these yellow-clad associates, I am always ready to get into a knock-down-drag-out argument, for several reasons. 1 - I KNOW you watched me pay at the self-checkout counter, not even 30 feet away from you. (Seriously, I saw you staring at me, while I loudly cursed the plastic bags that REFUSE to open.) 2 -The receipt is on my phone, and I am not going to go through the annoyance of looking it up, showing you my phone, or allowing you to touch my phone. (It is flu season, and I have no idea where your hands have been.) 3 - I simply flat out refuse to participate in such nonsense. If you have reasonable suspicion to believe that I have stolen something, you best send someone after me. (That person can go through my bags, as they load them in my vehicle. Please, do not forget to return the cart to the corral. Then, hop on in! You can come home with me and unload/put all this shit away, too.)

Anyway, so the man leaned in, and I am ready to let him have it. Then, he whispers: "Did you get your black-eyed peas?" 

Me, whispering back (for reasons I still do not understand): "I beg your pardon?"

"Your black-eyed peas, for tomorrow?"

"Ummm...like...the band? As in music?"

I could tell I had said something wrong, because he started to look at me, like I was from another planet. "Uh, no. Peas. Like you eat. You are supposed to eat them. TOMORROW!"

Me, now looking at him like HE is the alien: "Uh..you will have to forgive me. I am not from here. I have no idea what traditions people hold, in this county."

Man, clearly perplexed: "It is not a county thing. I do not think, anyway? I think it is everywhere, at least in the South."

"Uh huh. Well, I am not from the South, either."

"That is okay. I do not even like them. I think they are gross."

Me, still so confused: "Riiiiight. Oookay. Well. Have a Happy New Year (searches name tag), Dylan!"

"You, too! Hey, do you have your receipt?"

Me, shouting over my shoulder: "The only thing I stole was the can of black-eyed peas!!"

"It's Christmas, and we're all in misery."

I love my mother-in-law. I really do. She is a sweetheart, adores her granddaughters, and would do anything for absolutely anyone (including strangers). HOWEVER, when it comes to gift-giving occasions (birthdays and Christmas), I want to STRANGLE her!

In years past, I have purchased gifts to give my girls from her, and she has paid me back. This eliminated unnecessary shipping costs and her searching for particular items that I could simply order on Amazon or find at my local Walmart. (I have done this very same thing with my sister-in-law and other members of my own family.) Nonetheless, I began to notice that even though we both seemed happy with this system, in addition to the gifts I sought out for her, she was STILL sending additional gifts. As a result, my girls were essentially receiving double gifts/two Christmases. (It had to stop!)

So, this year, I thought to myself, "Maybe she enjoys the hunt?!" Then, I realized that OF COURSE she does!! She has helped me make over 100 different children's Christmases, by buying and sending multiples of the "IT" toy of the year, the past three years. (I told you, she has a heart of gold!) Ergo, I decided to do things differently. This year, I sent her Amazon links to the EXACT toys that each of my girls wanted, and IT WORKED!! She was all too happy to click on the links, order the items, ship them to her house, and then ship them to mine. (The entire thing was ludicrous to me, but if it made her gift-giving experience jolly, GO ON WITH YOUR BAD SELF! I was still going to have to wrap all of them, but it was worth it. Plus, it took additional shopping off of my plate.) I was so happy with myself! I had, FINALLY, after 10 years of Christmas for my girls (ten because Riley Mac received gifts, when she was still in utero), figured out what worked for us! #IAmClearlyADaughterInLawGenius

Then, the box arrived...

First, while it is hard to determine the scale of the box in this picture, I can physically fit INSIDE it! THAT is how monstrous! According to the UPS label, it measures three feet in length and weighs 25 pounds. (I could feel my blood pressure rising, as soon as I dragged it inside the house, with the help of my oldest child!) I decided to remain calm (knowing that she LOVES these girls) and see what was inside, before losing my shit!

You all may not know this, but you know what I loathe *almost* as much as glitter?? EFFIN' POPCORN PEANUT PACKING SHIT! IT ADHERES TO EVERYTHING, THROUGH SOME SORT OF MAGIC MEETS SCIENCE STATIC PROPERTIES! YOU CANNOT GET IT OFF THE CONTENTS OF THE PACKAGE, NOR YOURSELF, NOR THE FLOOR, NOR YOUR CAT!! Basically, the moment you open said box - EXPLOSION!! (It is like a damn Jack-in-the-Box, is what it is like!) It comes shooting out, EVERYWHERE! What miraculously remained in the box is CERTAIN to spill out, as you dig up and remove the buried treasures. There is, literally, NO WAY to get the items out, WITHOUT EFFIN' CAT AND CHILDREN CHOKING HAZARDOUS MATERIALS FLYING OUT, IN ALL DIRECTIONS! HOW SAID ECOSYSTEM DEPLETING MATERIALS GET FROM JUST OUTSIDE THE BOX TO CLEAR ACROSS THE OPPOSITE END OF THE HOUSE IS STILL A COMPLETE MYSTERY TO EVERY SCIENTIST IN THE WORLD, BUT OH HOW THEY DO!!

Once past the indestructible, space-like, inedible death nuggets, the first thing I noticed was the gifts the girls requested, right on the top. I began to calm a bit thinking, "Everything is going to be okay. It is probably just mostly carcinogenic styrofoam. All good!" Then, I kept digging. 

  

EXHIBIT A. Here, you see the Pomsies and Wrapples that each of my girls requested. Notice anything perplexing, though? Yep, I have THREE girls. Yet, there are FOUR of each toy. I presume she loves one more than the other two. (I have decided to share this information with my girls and let them battle it out, in an effort to figure out who is the favorite and deserves TWO of each toy.)

EXHIBIT B. PEZ. PEZ, for the upteenth year, IN A ROW! Friends, do YOU know if my girls are allowed to eat candy? (Ooooh..I bet you do! In fact, I bet the Walmart cashier AND the waitress at our favorite restaurant, also, KNOW!) EVERYONE EFFIN' KNOWS! EVERYONE RESPECTS THIS! MY FRIENDS, MY FAMILY, MY NEIGHBORS, THEIR TEACHERS, THEIR COACHES, THEIR FRIENDS, EVERYONE ELSE IN WARREN'S FAMILY, EVERY SANTA WE HAVE EVER TAKEN A PICTURE WITH, EVERY EASTER BUNNY THAT HAS HOPPED IN OUR DIRECTION, EVE.RY.ONE! Want to guess who, also, KNOWS?!?! (OOOOOOOOOOH...SHE KNOWS!! YES, SHE DOES!) YET, I CONTINUE TO RECEIVE PEZ AND CHEESE PUFFS AND SHIT SHE **KNOWS** I AM GOING TO NOT JUST THROW AWAY, BUT BURN IN A PILE OUT IN THE BACKYARD, WHILE WALKING ABOUT SAID FIERY PIT, CHANTING, HOLDING THE POSTER I MADE ABOUT SUGAR AND TOOTH DECAY AND ALL THINGS STICKY AND BRA BURNING AND WOMEN'S RIGHTS!

EXHIBIT C. A Fingerling. The Fingerling I told her my girls already had, as it was THE gift, last year. (Remember, YOU helped find like a million of them, shipped them to me, and helped make a lot of kids' Christmases?! Same Fingerling.) Upon questioning this item, she explained that my middle child asked her for a Fingerling, with a baby. (Mmmhmm, mmmhmm. Okay. Fair. Does my daughter need a SECOND Fingerling (even if it does have a baby) that she will play with for three minutes and forget about? No, no she does not. BUT kids ask for shit they do not need all the time!) Okay, I see your point. Just one more question...

EXHIBIT D. WHY ARE THERE **SEVEN** OF THEM?!?! (#$%*&@#$%!!!) 

I cannot even! Someone, have a drink for me, as I am three months sober/pregnant (and it would be sorely frowned upon). "I don't know what [else] to say, except it's Christmas, and we're all in misery." - Ellen Griswold



**Dearest Mother-in-Law: If you come across this, remember that I have been with your son, for over 17 years. You should know me and my humor, by now. This post is meant to be facetious. The girls are going to have a fantastic Christmas, in part because of your love and generosity. While I may not let you know it enough, I am lucky to have you as my mother-in-law, and I DO love you (most days). ;)