It’s kinds of become the joke between my mom and I. I will call her and tell her about the string of insanity that my kids hurled my way and we’ll laugh and I’ll finish by saying “But this is fine.”
That was definitely the feeling today!
Started out good:
I laughed at my “ways to shame mothers who pump into thinking they aren’t enough” idea. I see all these posts where someone pumped enough breastmilk to feed a small country and I’m struggling to get 8oz a day.
I’ve decided that they are using optical illusions like this. That bag is only full of about 3oz of breast milk but it looks much fuller. It’s how I sleep at night, don’t judge me.
Came home and my husband made enchiladas! They were sitting in the over cooking. It was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
Annabelle asked what was for dinner. Like a fool I told her enchiladas, instead of redirecting the convo.
“What kind of enchiladas?”
Damn. I knew what I was walking in to. Do I lie and tell her what she wants to hear? Honestly I don’t even know the answer myself. Annabelle switched between chicken and ground beef enchiladas so often I never know what to make.
“Chicken.” I winced. Silence.
“I don’t LIKE chicken!!!”
This is an accurate depiction of how much she ate:
Needed to diffuse the tension:
Snap chat filters make the world a better place.
Right now it’s time for bed, which comes with its own fire burning down the house.
See example one. I call this: my kid who is up WAY past her bed time and is staring at me. Totally terrifying. Excuse me while I deal with this.
I don’t even care. Their in bed. Who wouldn’t want Starbucks and donuts on a Wednesday morning? Am I right?