Typical Circus

It’s Friday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank the Powers That Be.  That being said, I have five thousand things to do this weekend.  Outside Christmas-Holiday-Kwanzaa lights, Chubba’s basketball game, Christmas photos, Christmas cards, Christmas cookies for teachers, and I’d like to schedule a time to sleep in.  And the toilets need attention.  So does the shower upstairs.  And Bukka and Fat Sucker’s room needs to be organized before Christmas.   Bukka has a birthday party to attend.  I may need to do some Christmas shopping too.  Something tells me--- sleeping in will not be an option.

I think we can all agree, my husband is an ass for taking this picture.  Since this photo in October, I’ve been working out regularly.  Jesus wept.  Where did my body go? And yes, Fat Sucker is wearing his PJs in the middle of the afternoon.  We were having a lazy day.  STOP judging.

Fat Sucker’s new habit of telling me I’m pretty was so endearing at first.  Every five seconds, “Mommy, you are so pwetty.”   Thank you.  “Mommy, you are so pwetty.”  Thank you.  “Mommy you’re pwetty.”  Thanks, Honey.  “You’re hair is pwetty.”  Thanks.  Why do you keep saying that?  “I wike to tell you you pwetty.”  Well thank you. 

Then it becomes a competition between all three kids to tell me how beautiful I am today.  That should make a mom feel great, right?  Well, I’m starting to doubt the sincerity of it all. 

Children giveth the compliment then quickly taketh away, like the very minute I say no.  “You’re not pwetty.”  Well at least I can say pretty---- so there.  <------ not what I really said.  Maybe. 

Then when I’m back in good graces.  “You really are pwetty.  I didn’t mean it. You made me mad.  You are pwetty.”

It’s starting to feel like I’m in an emotionally abusive relationship that I can’t escape. 
 

Bukka wants to change his last name to Bacon.  It’s a likeable last name.  Who can blame him?  Probably not gonna happen though. 

This dude was told a few weeks ago (by a teacher) that he was overly confident.  He took it as a great compliment and went about his day.  I informed him that basically meant arrogant.  He remained unfazed.




This fella broke into our house via the back door (kids left unlocked), set off the alarm system, ate some treats, knocked down several Santas, ran upstairs, climbed in Fat Sucker’s bed, and looked surprised when I showed up to the house with a baseball bat.  We both jumped upon seeing each other.  Not a burglar.