First off, Jay and I woke up to our daughter screaming in our bed at 3:40 this morning. Apparently she was having a nightmare that all the donuts in the world had disappeared. That is the most fantastic way to wake up, I tell you.
Then I got up at 7:15 to take a shower and get ready for the day. I went to make coffee, and discovered there was no milk, coffee creamer, or even half and half. WTF is the world coming to that we had none of those things. But I figured that I would just pick up a coffee after I had ditched the kids off at VBS. I woke up Kenzie, Mason, and Evan and made them get dressed. I had to listen to the whine about having cereal without milk since the waffles I offered were unwanted. Man, they are picky bitches when they want to be. Who doesn't want banana waffles?
Next, I had to deal with my oldest son, who's stomach hurt. We had the "when was the last time you pooped" conversation, and when I found out it had been 3 days, I had to explain that if it's been a day, let mommy know. Especially if he felt he had to go but couldn't. I could help him, and he looked at me like I was going to go all Bobby Brown on his ass and help pull it out. I was like "Um, not help you like that, gross-o", what I meant was I can give you some mineral oil and within a few hours, it's "Ah, I feel 10 pounds lighter" and you're all good. I had to assure him endlessly that it doesn't taste bad, or even taste like anything before he would even attempt to take the mere 1/2 teaspoon I gave him. He had to smell it a few times and taste a bit on his finger AND plug his nose. Once he took it, he goes "hey, that wasn't that bad" and I was like "duh, didn't I tell you that 50 times?" and he just glared at me. He then ran off to get dressed for VBS.
Next up, Kenzie. Now, the Princess doesn't like getting dressed by herself. I should clarify that, she doesn't like to get dressed unless she has picked out the whole monstrosity of the outfit, which usually means tights, shorts or skirt, a leotard, a t-shirt, and a boa. None of which match. Oh, and her salmon colored Crocks. Since at VBS, they are required to wear the orange t-shirts they provided (and I mean ORANGE, like hunter orange. No one could miss them in a crowd unless they were, let's say DICK CHENEY), I had little choice but to pair it with denim capri pants, which she hates because jeans "are for boys and I'm not a boy, I'm a Princess and Princesses are GIRLS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" so it was a fight. Plus, she didn't like the panties I picked out because they were pink and didn't match her orange shirt (like the maroon tights, purple skirt, pink leotard, and blue butterfly tank top matches, Oh, and the salmon crocks) so I had to go get her new panties. Then the real fight came when I had to do her hair. I keep expecting CPS to show up because of how much she yells and screams whenever I so much as touch her hair. It is one thing to not do it when we are at home, but no matter how much I explain to her that it wouldn't' get so knotty if I was allowed to brush it every day, she would still rather have a rats nest of hair and look crazy than let me touch a brush to it. I said she couldn't go to church if I wasn't allowed to brush it and I also had to promise we would walk over to Top Pot Donuts after VBS was over. She immediately shut up and sat down so I could pull her hair back.
And finally, I pulled Evan into the bathroom so I could try and tame his Pompadour of hair into something that doesn't resemble a 50's hearth throb on crack. I wet it down and before I could grab the comb out of the basket, he jumped off the seat, lifted the toilet lid and PUKED! And puked and puked and then puked some more. Poor guy. He was puking like he had downed a 5th of vodka in .5 seconds. When he finally stopped, I stripped him down, put him in some cool jammies, had him rinse out his mouth, and then whisked him off to bed where I wiped his face down with a cool wash cloth. I turned on SpongeBob and gave him full t.v. and movie rights of the television in their room, threatening a beating to Mason if he tried to turn it off of a show Evan was watching (Mason is the remote Nazi of their room, and even if Evan is mid-show, he will turn it to whatever he wants, or switch on his Playstation 2, or even turn it off so he can play on his computer and not be interrupted by the t.v.). Then he got some ginger ale, which made his smile a very weak smile at me. That is his kryptonite, I tell you. Soda, I can get him to do anything for a sip of soda. He never ever gets it, unless it is a special occasion or is sick. His favorite is root beer, but ginger ale is an easy second.
After that, I had to change Mason and Kenzie's shirts, since they will wear them tomorrow. Kenzie's ponytail fell out and I quickly put it back up, using only my fingers before she could have a major break down. I had to force Mason to hang his shirt back up, again threatening body parts, because he can't stand putting things away. He went on to complain that he didn't want to watch Ninja Skunk, and why couldn't Kenzie go in her room to watch t.v. so he could watch what he wanted on the living room t.v., but when I told him he could go in her room to watch t.v. since she was watching cooking shows, which I like to watch, too, he was outraged that I would ask him to watch t.v. in a room that he had to sit on her pretty purple girly bed or sit on her very pretty flower padded rocking chair. I told him to suck it up, and then he went to poop instead. Apparently, that is one seat he was more than happy to sit on.
Since I obviously wasn't going to be able to go out for some coffee, I decided to suck it up and use vanilla rice milk in my coffee, because coffee is necessary, especially after the morning I had had. Low and behold, in the back of the fridge I found some whipping cream, left over from the last time I made ice cream. I swear I felt the light of heaven shine down on me at that moment. God does love me, yes I know! Whipping cream in coffee is a small luxury I have only allowed myself a time or two. I decided I would make it extra special and use my Gevalia Amaretto coffee and even break out my vanilla sugar, that I use only to make vanilla bean ice cream or to decorate sugar cookies with. If you haven't had it, make it. Use it. Savor it. Once it was done, I had my first sip and just melted. It was G-L-O-R-I-O-U-S!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I drank it down, and went to work with cleaning the kitchen, even humming as I did it. That is how freaking happy I was.
Until I busted out singing the song I had been humming.......
"Seven things I like about you, that hair, those eyes...."
Fucking Myley Cyrus and her stupid catchy song. How the fuck did this happen? I am still pissed at myself for singing any song sung by a 15 year old whore I won't even let my daughter watch on t.v. because she is such a trashy slut. And here I am sweeping and singing that song that has been stuck in my head since I heard it on our digital music channel yesterday. Why on earth is she considered Adult Top 40? What stable American, correction, ADULT AMERICAN, would listen to that willingly. I was tricked, just like when I started liking that G.D. Carrie Underwood song they had playing on the Top 40 Station. That is bullshit! Country does not belong on that station. If I wanted to listen to damn rednecks, I would tune it to their stupid station. I thought I was safe, but NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Douchebags.
I need to go. I have things to do. Kids to take care of. Lunches to make. Dinner to prepare for. Miley Cyrus songs to download. A dog to feed. Why can't I find that song. A daughter to calm down when she realized her fingernail polish had rubbed off. Ah, found it, I was spelling it wrong.