Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Stupid Bread Box

Oh what is this bread box for?
When all the bread, is on the table. Pushed aside-to and fro.
What the fuck is this bread box for?

Why have a cutlery drawer?
When the toddler throws it all on the floor

The baby is crying
Because I have breasts,
And all he wants is to be glued to my chest

Breakfast food for dinner
Our special treat.
3 plates, 3 waffles, 6 bacon, 3 sausage link
3 milk, then on to my cold plate
No bacon left.
The last sausage looks like a penis

HA, penis. No adult to laugh with me.
My daughter thinks I'm fucking crazy.

Tripping on toys
Might break my face
I'll look far less tired
than now with mascara streaked cheeks. (no bacon, and a newly broken face remember?)
What the fuck is the toy box for?

Marker, marker every where,
On the couch, the wall and somehow-in her hair.

No place for me to sit
3 loaves of bread are in my way
Oh what the fuck was that bread box for anyway?



Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Shit Happens...

So I went on a mall mission with a friend today. I was a woman on a mission. Determined in my destination. The mall is a ten minute drive-door to door. So its really not that far off-unless you have a baby. After the mission was accomplished, Mr. Man decides he needs to be fed NOW. So off to the coffee shop we go, I grab an iced coffee with a muffin, sit down and whip out a boob. Good thing he's so noisy when he drinks-or I'd be worried we WOULDN'T be noticed.

Grunt, cough, strain, groan PFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTPPPPPTTTT. (Thats internet speak for massive baby fart). Sigh, and he keeps going. I bring him up for a burping. He's cooing, looking around, and has decided to make up for his VERY loud declaration of hunger earlier.

Just then-PFFFFFFTTTPPPPPPTTTSSSSSPPPPPPPTTT. But this time-its different, its creeping up his back, in plain sight. Up high enough for me to realize-I've left the diaper bag in the van. With the diapers and means for cleaning him up. I look down and see a mark on my hand, while chatting away, I with all the confidence of a fourth time mom-lick my hand.

My friend jokingly says "Be careful what you lick there with that mess of his!"
I reply "Oh its just ice coffee." But here's the thing I'm not 100% confident it was. In fact, I'm now trying to bullshit my way through eating shit. I go on, buy him a sleeper and some diapers. Change him, and come home.

So remember shit happens, all the way up to your hair some times. And sometimes all you can do, is go through life with a shit eating grin.