Tomorrow is Sophie’s first day at preschool. I just hit the store with a friend to buy Q-tips because, dammit, she is not going to be sporting dirty ears for some teacher to peer into and think, “Tsk, tsk” about the Familia del Hogaboom. I mean, we are white trash in ways too varied to ennummerate here, but I really do keep my kids’ hands, faces, teeth, ears, and genitals clean.
Geez, just typing that out exhausted me. It is such an effort keeping up with them. Today at Steph’s my son somehow got rice plastered all over his shirt and undershirt (eating my sushi roll and accidentally, and sadly, getting a “Wasabi Surprise”). He also got very grumpy and suddenly sported facial scars and a (dry) yet amazingly stanky diaper. In short, looking at him, he was only one small step away from being the Boy in Sweatpants and Cowboy Boots that we all hate. It was hard to claim him as mine and load him in the car but I didn’t really have a choice.
Later after a nap and a face wash he was smiling and beautiful again. It’s a good thing I didn’t throw him in the garbage earlier, when he was so annoying. I’ll have to make sure to remember that.
My daughter had a super short nap so by 8:00 PM she was ON THE FRITZ. Her head spun around and she told me to fuck myself in Latin. I was resigned to a gladiator-like struggle to get her to bed but she grew oddly calm in the bath (even while I was washing her hair). I transferred her to Daddy and when I got home after my very-brief trip to the store I peeked in on her to find her lying on her back, breathing deep, with her little arms crossed over her chest as if in a coffin. Yes, that’s it… REST. SLEEEEEP.
Mother of God.