I’ve been a horrible mommy-blogger. It’s been almost a week since I last posted. Several reasons for this, not the least of which is that I didn’t remember to. Whoopsies. When you go 27 point 5 years without a blog, it’s easy to forget that you’ve got one. By the way, did you know that WordPress’s spell check doesn’t recognize “blog” or “blogger” as real words? They suggest I use “bog”, “blag”, or “biog” instead. Ironic, no? Also not a word? WordPress and Whoopsies. Who knew?
Where was I? Oh, yes. My short term memory loss relating to my
blogblag. There are literally drillions of blags floating throughout the world wide interweb, so for me to complain about everything that goes into maintaining a blag would be laughable. If drillions can do it, there’s no excuse as to why I can’t. I’m reasonably intelligent, have a fairly creative mind, a daughter that says and does blag-worthy things everyday, and I have a free forum through which to convey such things.
But indulge me for just a moment. I’ll be brief. Not only does this blag put pressure on Eirinn to perform circus-like feats of hilarity on a regular basis, I also have to remember to document such events, take pictures, Photoshop these pictures so no one laughs at my ridiculously amateur photography skills, compose a post with humour, drama, mystery, and an introduction, character development, plot, climax, and an elaborately satisfying conclusion, press publish, proofread my published work (I’m the only one who proofreads after publishing? hmmm…), edit for errors, grammatical and otherwise, re-publish, and pass out from exhaustion. Lately I’ve been skipping all steps but the last one.
I’m going to get better. I promise. I started this blag with the intention of keeping friends and family abreast of Eirinn’s daily follies. I continued this blag with enthusiasm when more than just friends and family started reading because I am all about the attention. Love it. I am totally flattered when I see that I get 50-130 visits in a day. I don’t even know 50-130 people! So that is uber-rad. Starting today, I’m going to post more regularly. Like I did, say, a week ago. With pictures. I’ve got a post in mind and I’ve mentally documented it and have began the post composition process. Mentally.
So please stay tuned.
In the meantime, for your reading pleasure, I present to you a conversation between Mommy, who will be played by myself, and The Evil Schizophrenic Spawn of Some Dastardly Villian, who will be played by Tornado Eirinn.
Monday, 7:55 am
Mommy is innocently packing herself a banana to take to work for a snack. Schizo Spawn sees the banana and, despite her already consuming two separate breakfasts in the span of a half an hour, demands in a tone only heard by dogs that she also have a banana. NOW.
Mommy tells Schizo that she can pack a banana to take to daycare as a snack, but that they have to get ready to go because they’re running late.
Full blown tantrum, body-trashing, arms punch the air, tears, screams, and demands ensue. Because they’re running so late, Mommy tries to dodge fists and leg-kicks while dressing Schizo in a hat, mitts, winter coat and boots. More than once, Mommy gets head-butted square in the jaw.
“Mommy!!!! I cwying!!!”
“I know you’re crying. Do you know why you’re crying?”
You could hear the little hamster running on his little wheel inside her head.
Squeak. Squeak. Pause. Squeeeeek.
“I stop cwying. I happy now.”