I don’t know if it started with the skinny dipping in the hot tub while only wearing Mardi-Gras beads,
or with the institution of “Cookie Hour,”
But Friends,
We’ve thrown out all law over here.
I know that we are not alone.
My friend Randall – my most Pinteresty order-loving friend – confessed to me the other day that she had started out OK until the day she had tried tossing a squash to her chickens and had accidentally killed one with too hard a throw.
Now almost all that she even does is record her children throwing fits to use later on them as blackmail.
It’s been a group trip downhill.
Every day I look around and wonder how this is real life.
Paige, the baby of the family, only exists now in pajamas covered in so many food stains that it looks like she must be a competitive eater,
or in her two sizes too small inflatable T-Rex costume.
She has to hunch down to get her face in the face-hole.
Poor T-Rex and his curved spine.
The inflation fan is like a soothing white-noise.
It has become the soundtrack of our home.
Tessa, my 11 year old, now does things like baking lemon loaf at 1am,
and I would not be surprised if I saw a small woodland creature un-burrow itself from the back of her hair.
Chloe, 13, determined to come out of this a shining star at some kind of sport,
no care which one,
has taken to attempting them all.
At any given moment you might find her lobbing volleyballs into the street at passing cars,
or perhaps contorted, bent over backwards, crab walking on the lawn like she has climbed from the well in The Grudge.
What will she try next?
Each day is brand new.
The other day she came into the living room crying and holding her mouth because she had been attempting to do the breakdancing worm on top of her bed.
As a result, she had banged her face on her metal bed frame.
Long story short:
I have now personally texted our family dentist so much that we have moved onto the
Strictly Emoji Phase.
Her skateboard arrived today;
The one that she ordered with her own money, just sure of her own eminent rise to skating greatness once it came.
I think in her mind she is going to burst straight from quarantine into a professional skate competition where she will take the main prize,
as well as several perfect-for-Instagram photos, of course.
She may just look like a lurchy beginner with fake henna freckles.
She may have a faint moon and sun print on her cheek from where she accidentally fell asleep the other night on her freshly hennaed hand while it was still wet;
But she assures you,
it is only a matter of time before you all know her name.
Stay tuned for the documentation of her rise to fame.
Making note of the weird things my kids try is now about 73% of what I even do anymore.
Well, that, and eat the lemon loaf.
I just do not even know.
This morning Paige woke up while it was still dark and made an un-roasted s’more for herself for breakfast.
I took one look at the evidence and then just scraped the empty Hershey wrapper, jumbo marshmallow bag, and box of graham crackers that looked like a bear had opened it to the side of the counter with my left forearm, and began prepping the coffee pot without blinking.
I said hello to each ant by name.
Breakfast here is now at noon,
lunch happens 4 separate times,
dinner is at 9:00, and may include vegetables, but also may be strictly an entire Oreo sleeve.
One really never knows.
We go where the Lord leads.
“No one is dressed?”
“Who’s brushed their teeth?”
“Has anyone fed the dogs in two days?”
“Is this 90 Day Fiancé
90 Day Fiancé The Other Way,
Before the 90 Days,
90 Day Fiancé Pillow Talk,
or 90 Day Fiancé Where are They Now?”
“What episode were we even on?”
“Why is Big Ed sweating so much?”
“Is Lana even real?”
*Chloe crab walks by out on the lawn*
On Mother’s Day we built a fire in our outside fire pit.
There I sat watching the girls do Tik Toks around the flames in a circle and speak in only memes I did not understand, and I thought,
“Wait. Is this an actual TRIBE now?
Because this one seems real primitive.”
I’m not even sure I’m IN the tribe.
They might be about to cook me in a soup for all I even know.
Up is down.
Down is up.
We’ve even stopped bothering to put on the toilet paper roll.
It just sits loose on the counter judging us.
My husband Justin, who works as a manager at Costco, has just started a two week vacation.
To say our pandemic experiences have been a little different from each other’s would be a gross understatement.
He, placating swarms of people in search of wipes,
Me, home for months with three feral people who, frankly, could use some wipes, too.
He has been home one day and is already asking questions about why there are wet swimsuits under the remotes on the ottoman and why the girls are staying up so late watching TLC.
I have tried telling him
“This is just what we DO now. This is how you quarantine.”
Poor guy.
I guess it’s time to teach him the ropes.
“Welcome to Quarantine!
Here we wear weird things,
and eat weird things,
and watch weird things.
If you need anything please let us know by yelling from the other room without getting up.
Being that our Teen Assistant is currently in her self-imposed High-Intensity Olympic Curling Training,
our hump-backed T-Rex Concierge will be happy to assist you.
Please relax to the sounds of this soothing costume fan,
and enjoy some hot lemon loaf while you wait.”
This article was written by a guest blogger. The opinions expressed here are those of the writer and do not reflect the opinions of Bob Lacey, Sheri Lynch or the Bob & Sheri show.
Mom Outnumbered
Hi! My name is Kerri Green; Wife to Justin, and mother to four highly entertaining daughters -Alena, Chloe, Tessa, and Paige. I am an artist, a writer, a daycare provider, a lover of people, a believer that there is humor and beauty in all things, and the author of Mom Outnumbered; a blog about real family life, and my observations of it. My goal is to make people laugh, to be there for them when they cry, and most importantly, to let them know that they are not at all alone in this up and down world. I live with my family in Sebastopol California, and I am opening the window into our life. So welcome! Come in. Sit down. Just please don’t mind the mysterious wet spots.
