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Sunday, July 14, 2013

Parentateuch: In Which the Light Is Taken Away

Note: the term "Parentateuch" (pronounced "pa-RENT-a-took") is a series of humorous stories told from a parent's perspective in a style similar to the King James Bible. The term is a spoof of the Pentateuch (a.k.a. the Torah, the first 5 books of the Bible).

After the time in which the children were fed and changed and put in bed, the Mommy beheld the peace and quiet and saw that it was good. And at the eighth hour, the Mommy rested and watched her astrophysics show. 

Yes, I watch this to relax. Don't judge me.

And when the children saw that the Mommy was no longer there, they said to one another, "Behold, Mommy has left us! Let us turn on the light and make mischief, for surely she will not know!" And they did turn on the light and play, and this went on for some time. 

And thus it came to pass that when the Mommy heard Suspicious Noises coming forth from the room, she came and found the children cavorting. 

A standard ceremony in the Ritual of Nightly Childhood Cavorting.

And so, in fulfillment of the earlier prophecy she had told the children, the Mommy took away the Special Nightlight Which Shined Stars Upon The Ceiling. And she also removed the Lightbulb from the socket above, so the children could no longer turn on the light. And the children cried and begged her to restore the Lightbulb unto the socket above, but the Mommy did not heed their cries. 

"In return for the restoration of the light bulb, I demand a sacrifice:
COMPLETE F*CKING SILENCE for the rest of the night!!!"

And she tucked the children in and said, "I say to you, I had better not hear you playing again, or else I shall return, and --though I know not yet what I will do-- I am sure I shall think of something. And truly I say to you... it shall not be good."
And thus the Mommy departed from them, and went and took a hot bath and read a book in peace and quiet. 

--Maternal Lamentations 4:20

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Monday, July 8, 2013

Nerdy Mommy's Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day

In college, when my roommate was having a crappy day, she would pull out her copy of one of her favorite children's books: Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day; she would then sit at her desk and proceed to read the book aloud (whether or not anyone was in the room). When she was done, she would put the book back and finish whatever she was doing; simply reading the book aloud helped relieve her frustration enough to at least complete her current assignment.

In honor of that fine tradition, I wrote my own version after having a crappy day of my own...


I went to bed and forgot to do the dishes, so this morning there's dirty dishes all over the countertops. When I got out of bed I stepped on a Hot Wheels car, then I spilled coffee on my new X-Men t-shirt. 
"Oh no, NOT my new X-Men shirt!!!!"

I could tell it was going to be a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

At breakfast, the toddler got mashed bananas in his mohawk, and the preschooler spilled yogurt down his shirt. 

I didn't even remember to eat breakfast.

I think I'll go away with The Doctor in the TARDIS. 

Because Weeping Angels are easier to handle than after-meal kid cleanup.

In the car, the preschooler kept saying he was hungry, and the toddler kept fussing for a toy. 
I said, "Here's a snack! Here's a toy!" 
Neither one even answered; they just kept complaining.

I could tell it was going to be a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

On Facebook, people liked my friend's photo of her newly renovated kitchen more than my picture of a funny Star Trek meme. 
The cupcakes I'm making for the bake sale are too lopsided and glumpy and don't look anything like the nice ones in the pictures online. Who cares about Pinterest anyway?

A few (million) more things to be insecure about.

I could tell it was going to be a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

I could tell because a family member told me I ought to be more strict with my kids, while another one told me I needed to loosen up. Someone else told me how I should incorporate more hands-on integrative techniques to enhance my children's overall development. 

They don't even have kids.

"I hope lots of complete strangers lecture you when you have kids of your own," I thought to myself. "I hope you spend tons of money getting lots of overpriced books and videos and toys specially designed to 'enhance your child's intellectual and physical development,' and I hope your kid ignores every single bit of it and plays with a stick instead."

Screw Baby Einstein; this can transform a kid into Gandalf or Harry Potter!

When it came time to make lunch, there was plenty of peanut butter and jelly in the pantry, and lots of cheese and lunchmeat in the fridge... but no bread and only half a cup of milk. 

Guess who forgot to go the grocery store the other day?

It was a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

It definitely was, because for once I was on time to the pediatrician's office for the toddler's checkup. The receptionist told me that my appointment was for tomorrow, not today. 
"You'll have to come back at the same time tomorrow," she said.

"Tomorrow," I said, "I'm transferring to the USS Enterprise."

Because nobody on the show has to schedule an appointment to see the doctor. Ever.

On the way from the doctor's office I got stuck in traffic. Our air conditioner doesn't work and it was really hot and the preschooler dropped his toy under my seat where I couldn't get it and the toddler kept crying because the sun was in his eyes and I started yelling at them both, "We're only five minutes away, I promise, so would you guys PLEASE JUST STOP CRYING ALREADY!!!"

On Facebook I updated my status: "I am having a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day." 

No one even commented.

"First the picture, now this. Do my friends even know I exist?!"

So then we went to the grocery store to get the stuff I forgot to get before. 
The preschooler wanted to get a cookie. The toddler tried to grab everything in arm's reach. I tried to get some chicken because it was on sale, but the manager said they were all sold out. I got a box of pasta and a jar of spaghetti sauce for dinner instead. If the kids don't like it, they don't have to eat it. 

When we got home, I told the preschooler to go to the bathroom, but he got distracted and had an accident. 
I told the toddler to stay away from the DVDs on the shelf; he didn't touch the DVDs at all, but instead grabbed a basket of my old NES games and dumped them all over the floor. 
I told the preschooler not to mess with the computer, but I think he bought tickets to ComicCon. 

I said: "That's it... I don't want to be the Mommy any more."

I'd rather be kicking ass in an awesome black PVC outfit. Can I please do that instead?

It was a Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day.

There was whining at dinner time and I hate whining.
There was fighting over a toy and I hate fighting.

At bathtime, the kids splashed water all over me and all over the floor, and the toddler ate some soap. 
I accidentally dropped a towel in the water when I was trying to get the kids out of the tub, and the preschooler asked me to read The Little Engine That Could

I hate The Little Engine That Could.

Pictured: torture

When it was bedtime, the preschooler couldn't find his favorite toy that he absolutely HAD to have to sleep with. The toddler wanted his special blanket, and I stubbed my toe trying to find that freaking blanket in the dark.

After I finally got everyone in bed, I went and poured myself a glass of wine. 

It had been a Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day.

Then I remembered the Daleks and Moriarty and Voldemort and Bowser and zombies and Magneto and the Borg and the Lannisters and I remembered that everyone has bad days.

Even in my favorite books, video games, and tv shows.

Photo credits:;;;;;;;