Revelations and Admissions

It's like a twist on Confessions ... but less sexy. I think.

In the ADMISSIONS category today:

I almost threw down with the receptionist at the dentist yesterday morning. I won't bore you with the details (ha! do you see wilbur in the sky? no, of course I'm going to pelt you with the 'tails!) but I had an appointment at 10. The sitter showed up just as I got a call from the office asking where I was. Say what? I'm at home not dressed and about to start flossing because my appointment is in twenty minutes. She countered that I was wrong and late late LATE. So .... I ran out of the house and went as fast as the van's treads would carry me while listening to the reminder voicemail she'd left on Thursday 99 times in a row to make sure it still said, ... yep "10 am on Monday". There was no parking and I had a cow until Simon ran out in his surgery garb in between surgeries to let me into his super official lot. We speedwalked in together while Simon kept a smart and safe 10 feet away from my person as I ranted. And ranted. And ranted some mo. I ran into the office ready to hit play and speaker on the voicemail but she smiled and said that wasn't necessary and that I must've "misheard".

Oh, no she didANT.

The hygienist assured me the appointment had been at 10 (or she was scared I was going to project my annoyance onto her by way of a bite to the finger) but I still would like Receptionist Rong to wave a white flag in my direction. And a gift basket full of my favorite things. And a new watch because I'll pretend she's clever (but still wrong).

I need to get a grip on call weekends. This past weekend was one of the worst yet and how am I regressing? How is that possible? Maybe I can redeem myself this weekend because of course ... of course we have three in a bleeping row. Am I really tearing up just thinking about it? It was that bad.  There was no sleep and then a no sleep hangover and lots of miscommunication. Two years: please fast forward yourselves. Wishing my life away? Yip.

I've become a total drive-thru Diet Coke junkie. It's so pathetic. We've got aspartame and caffeine and addiction and convenience. Judge me hard.


And in equally riveting REVELATIONS: 

You know how Simon always accuses me of dressing Julia like anything but a two-year-old girl? (frat boy, lumberjack, etc ...) Well Simon put her down for her nap on Sunday and I went to get her when she beckoned, "I awaaaaaaake!!!! I awake now!!!!" and she was wearing this ...

so! he has negative 99 legs to stand on from here on out.

My late night/early morning when Simon's on call 'can't sleep but don't want to watch a show for fear that I won't hear the predators outside the house' activity is ... the humor Pins.

(outsourced from here)

I always email them individually to Simon at work and when I ask if he opened them the next day ... "um, I opened the first one and it was sort of funny I guess."

Thanks.

My kids? Baby geniuses. Julia brought me "Jack's giant beanstalk" yesterday afternoon:

And then she brought me "a big giant big giant giant flower"

but was outshined by Sebastian's gorgeous arrangement that he picked himself because he is a machine - albeit a smart one.

"Here Mom - here's a bouquet and some emotion. Enjoy."

And Theodore?

He heaved himself in a rollover from front to back not once! not thrice! but twice in the past two days. He's going places ... fig and lit.



And that? That's it.