Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Apple Jacked


First, can I just say this?

Hello, Computer & The People Who Live Inside. I've missed you.

I think when I posted last time, I was sitting in my car, taking a breather while the baby slept.

Somehow, and I'm not asking questions because I'm GRATEFUL, there is no crying or whining or needs that must be met RIGHTTHISSECOND. So here I am.

Whoever allowed Tangled to come on just as Gnomeo and Juliet was ending? My sanity thanks you. Also, big ups to the creator of the baby swing.

Don't judge me.

These last couple of weeks have been ROUGH. And I don't see myself as a weak person. I've been through some stuff. But, woochile. More move drama than you can count plus husband being away plus baby growth spurt plus bored kid plus all of us being sick plus plus plus? It's just...a lot.

One sec. I've been beckoned for snack replenishment...


Maybe that's my cue to move on.

Ok, so yesterday, as I was desperately trying to sneak in a few more minutes of nap, Playette came to me and asked for an apple. I told her to wait and I would get it for her.

Since when does she like apples anyway? No rush, I thought.

But then I opened my eyes all the way and realized that she had left the room. So I walked down the hall and she wasn't in her room either. I went downstairs to the kitchen and found this crime scene:

Open fridge door. Open fruit drawer. KNOCKED OVER MOSCATO (like I can even imagine when I'll get a chance to finally have a glass). Bag of apples on floor.


I had a choice. Get mad? Or be glad that she made it work all on her own?

I shrugged it off. Bigger fish to fry and all.

But where was she?

I followed the sound of the booming television.

She turned that on herself. And, trust me, that's complicated. BD wouldn't have it any other way.

There she was, standing in front of it, eating her hard-earned apple. 

At least she didn't wake the baby.

So I asked if she wouldn't mind (I can't even imagine my mother ever using terms like this - heh) if I maybe washed the apple off for her? Because the thought of her eating that dirty apple was giving me the dry heaves. She consented and then I saw this:

Which cracked me up. Because she has such teeny little teeth and all her big girl efforts only got her this far.

So I washed it off and sliced it prettily (do you have one of these?) and all was well in our world.

For like five minutes.

Which is good these days!


By the way, that workout/weight loss stuff? Ummm...yeah. Last week was a wash. I am really looking forward to starting again though. I did step on the scale over the weekend and apparently exhaustion and accidental starvation are working in my favor, numbers-wise.

If given the choice, I'd rather be strong than skinny though.


Becca said...

Ha! Good for her! Could've been worse, right? And so funny that while I was reading that, all I could think of was how I'd react if Sammi was chomping on an unwashed apple, wondering if I was out of line for even thinking it, thinking most people would think I was anal retentive for that being my first thought, and there you were, validating me and my unwashed-apple-or-other-produce phobia. Thank you, thank you, thank you. :-)

Btw, you MOVED? Same town? New state? Wow.

krlr said...

I've missed you too!

All that independence can be so bittersweet - part where's my baby & part yoo-hoo! Go get yourself a snack so I don't have to move.

Grace just realized she could open the fridge herself this week - and now requests frozen waffles almost hourly. "DA!" she says, pointing. I cannot resist the glee.