What'd you say...

So many random moments over the weekend. Moose and I were writing his name in the condensation on our window in the morning. (We get an insane amount of condensation on our living room windows every morning. Turns out they're great activity boards.) I asked him something along the lines of "and what comes next?" And he says "animal crackers?"

We went to a friend's birthday party on Saturday and she had a beautiful Barbie cake (where the barbie is actually in the cake and the cake makes her dress, and the frosting is like the fabric of her skirt. They put frosting all over her torso to make the dress cover her up. I had one in fourth grade.) Anyway, Moose told me, literally like 7 times, that the Barbie was a toy and that we should not eat it. It was hilarious.

At this same party, there were pizza, strawberries, milk, and cake (as well as other yummy tasty treats). Monkey decided she wanted to eat and was chowing down on Little Caesars cheese pizza, strawberries (an exciting first), drank her milk from a big girl cup (well, it was a big BOY cup, since she was sharing with Moose), and then chowed down on chocolate Barbie cake. She was so impatient with me, she grabbed her own fork and started stabbing at the piece of cake, trying to feed herself. Oink, oink, little girl.

Now, I know I share my little interesting experiences or funny stories, or the occasional thought-provoking (maybe not for you, but at some point it was for me) parenting thing. But my day to day really is that of a homemaker. I do those things that make our apartment feel like a home. Well, that help it feel like a home that's not a pig sty. I try my bestest (most days) to keep the dishes under control, do laundry, keep the toys from completely covering the living room/kitchen/bedroom floors. I change diapers, wipe bums (yes, unfortunately that's still plural. When on earth will his arms be long enough to do it himself?), run small errands, read stories, tickle bellies, manage time outs, take multiple cleansing breaths every day, and ultimately play house. Every day. All day. I cook, I clean, I am the ultimate (although so very far from perfect) mother, wife, cook, maid, chauffeur, and play mate. Now, let's not forget that I don't do any of these perfectly on any given day, and rarely do I do any of them perfectly on the same day. But I don't often mention these day to day tasks of parenting/playing house because I do them every day. And unless something remarkable happens while I'm doing these, I tend to forget I did them. (if I remembered to do them at all.)

So yes, I do all that boring stuff too. Although I say boring sarcastically because you make your own fun. If I dreaded my day to day activities, I wouldn't be able to make it to the next day. Although I don't mind laundry (after 5 1/2 years without a washer or dryer, I'm loving laundry) or doing dishes (after over 4 1/2 years without a dishwasher, I'm loving that too).