Friday Favorites: Morning Apocalypse Edition

Happy Friday, Friends! I am reporting to you live from the sixth circle of hell.

Vivi, my typically non-sick child, has had a cold for the past few days, so she's been coming down to my bedroom in tears and begging to sleep with me. Which would be fine if she would actually sleep. Instead, she brings her taxidermied cat into my bed (don't ask), flops around for a couple of hours, gets in and out of my bed, flops around some more, cries, whines, begs for waffles and Nutella at midnight, flops around some more, and then finally goes to sleep. And then she continues to wake up every thirty minutes after that with more flopping and fussing. If she weren't sick, I wouldn't even entertain the idea of letting her sleep with me, but I'm a sucker for a sick little bebe. Unfortunately, all 28 pounds of her manages to take up an entire king size bed, so I have gotten 3 hours of sleep in the past two nights combined.

When Bobby came down this morning at 7am for breakfast, I had just fallen back asleep, but I got up and made him breakfast. I sat on the sofa for a few minutes to catch up on the news while he ate, and I guess I had inadvertently fallen asleep sitting up, because I startled myself awake probably twenty minutes later to find Bobby standing on a step stool in our butler's pantry spraying everything with the sink faucet in our wet bar area. Vivi was awake by that point, too, and there were what appeared to be ripped apart carnations all over my living room floor. 

#byeflowers

Vivi was still feeling pretty puny, so she asked to watch tv in my lap on the living room sofa. We were snuggled up for about one episode of Bubble Guppies when I realized that I hadn't heard anything out of Bobby for about 20 minutes. And that's never good. 

I hollered up, "Bobby? Whatcha doing? You playing with your trains??"

"No, no, Mommy," he replied hesitantly.

Then he came downstairs only in his underpants and soaked in water, as well as some unidentified white substance, from head to toe. 

"I'm wet," he said forlornly.

"Well, I can see that, Bob. What happened?"

"I made a mess."

"Where? What kind of mess?"

"A mess in the bathroom. But I cleaned it up. It's all clean now, Mommy."

This would normally be the point that I would run upstairs to assess the damage, but Vivi was snuggled up on me and sniffling, and I didn't especially have the energy to move. 

"It's all clean?" I asked.

"All clean," he insisted.

"Okay," I said. "Go grab a towel and wipe off." 

After a few minutes, I got up to go to the restroom, and Bobby looked absolutely panic-stricken. 

"No, Mommy! Don't go upstairs and look at my mess!" he pleaded.

Oh, shit.

"I thought you said it was clean?" I asked, knowing good and well it probably wasn't.

"It's a big mess, Mommy. You're going to be mad. Please don't go look at my mess," he continued to plead.

If this guy admits he made a mess, that's gotta be one large mess.

Again, this would typically be a point where Normal Me would run upstairs to look, but I was so tired and so completely out of shits to give that I was choosing to abide by the mantra of what I don't know can't hurt me.

"Okay," I said calmly, "but please tell me what is all over you?"

"Oh, that's toothpaste," he said with a hesitant grin, just waiting to see how I would react.

I stared blankly into the vacuum of his eyes, waiting to see which one of us would crack first. 

"Toothpaste, huh?"

"Toothpaste."

"How did you get toothpaste all over your entire body, Bob?" I asked.

"It all happened so fast," he said.

Aha, he's learned a line from Mama's playbook.

That was the point that I decided I should probably go take a look at this alleged mess. It actually wasn't as bad as I was expecting, but it appeared that what had begun as an innocent tooth brushing incident somehow turned into toothpaste smeared all over the mirror and his body. I can only assume that he tried to clean himself up by crawling in the sink, and then things just spun out of control. But this is coming from the kid who is notorious for flooding bathrooms, so on a Bobby scale of 1-10, this was maybe a 4. 

And then I saw the pumpkin guts. 

Somehow--and I don't know how or why--he busted a pumpkin and scattered its innards all over the play room. Now this is where I began to get pissed. I went downstairs to find Bobby and discipline him and make him clean it up, but instead, I found one butt ass naked little boy whipping a Disney Princess beach towel around his head like a helicopter and a whiny little girl running around with a cut finger and smearing blood all over my nice clean living room. How? What?? Is this real life?

Oh the humanity. 

After pitching a mini-hissy fit, I calmed down, wrestled Vivi to clean her up and put a band aid on her little finger cut, had a good long "talk" with Bobby, and cleaned all the affected areas of this morning's atom bomb. Then I figured out a way to intimidate my kids into good behavior, and things got significantly better after that.

But on the plus side, I did shower today. 

Now I am sitting here trying to find my personal chi or whatever, which usually involves shopping. So here are some things I've had my eye on lately:

* I am head over heels for these earrings. They have a funky, punk vibe to them, and I think they would be such a fun contrast to a conservative or neutral outfit. They aren't cheap, but isn't that what Santa is for?

* This wrap sweater gives me all the winter vibes and my be going on my wishlist, too!

* I am on the hunt for some cute matching Christmas jammies, and during my search, I stumbled across the most adorable pair of Christmas kitty pajamas that Vivi has to have. They're the sweetest! And speaking of cat-wear, I am about to snag her one of these darling little kitty sweater dresses that I know she is just going to love.

* I'm obsessed with these booties and am debating how many pairs of booties a person can have before it becomes obscene.

* I wish I had a place in my house for another mirror, because I am obsessed with this really awesome, slightly creepy antler mirror. If I actually owned it, I think I would paint the wood a different color to funk it up a little bit and make it not feel like it belongs in an 1800s Scottish manor. But I dig it either way.

* Also, I need this mug in my life because I can't drink caffeine, so mornings really do blow for me. But I'd still be willing to drink my salty, slightly shitty tap water out of it.

I hope y'all all have a wonderful, relaxing, pre-Thanksgiving weekend and that nobody scatters pumpkin guts all over your home! XO