Flashback: July 28, 2013
Billie: Momma! I got jokes!
Me: Oh, yea? Let’s hear one.
Billie: Why did the chicken cross the road?
Me: I don’t know, why?
Billie: Because he knows I’m telling a joke!
Me: Wait- what?
Me: That’s a very interesting–
Billie: And then the cat crossed the road and the chicken said, “whatchoo doin’, cat? GET OUT OF MY JOKE!”
…Five minutes later and this joke is still going. Plus side? This is the most self aware joke I’ve heard in a while.
This is the text I just sent to Doug:
“So I was brushing my teeth and I hear what sounded like a wave crashing in the kitchen. Knowing full well that there is not an ocean in our house, I ran toward the sound to find Billie standing in 2 inches of lemonade crying. We get towels to clean up, but she is so out of her mind bereft that she can’t calm down enough to wipe up the mess. So we stand there, together, in a pool of lemonade and do our belly breaths until she calms down. I finally get her calm, go to grab the lysol, and she moved to walk out of the room to get another towel and does this cartoon style flip and lands ass up on the kitchen floor. I can’t help it- I laugh- and in doing so, I lose my footing, slip, and shower us both in Lysol. We just sat there, in 2+ inches of Lysol lemonade, giggling manically until I realized I was the adult and had to handle the situation.
Anyway, what I’m trying to say is: I mopped the kitchen floor. Sorta. You’re welcome.”
He is one lucky guy.
I’ve been super sick today. I barely had enough in me to get Billie from school. When I got there, I was met by her teacher, her face stern.
“Today was career day and all the students were asked what they wanted to be when they grew up. Billie said she wanted to be a kitty cat. I told her that she couldn’t be a cat and she needed to pick a different profession. Do you know what she told me?”
“No,” I responded. I barely had enough energy to stand let alone continue this conversation.
“She told me-” the teacher stops herself short, deciding instead to make Billie take accountability for her reactions, “Billie? Billie tell your mother what you said.”
Billie looked at me very carefully, “I told her…” she continued staring at me like she was steeling herself for the worst, “I told her fine. Then I would just become a teacher so I can tell everyone what to do with their lives.”
And I laughed.
I laughed so hard.
Needless to say it was not the reaction the teacher was looking for.
Billie picked up a dandelion. She put it to my lips and said, “Make a wish, mommy!”
Billie: “What did you wish for?”
Me: “I can’t tell you- then it won’t come true.”
Billie: “No. I don’t like that.”
Me: “What do you mean?”
Billie: “If you don’t tell people what your wishes are then they can’t help them come true. You have to tell people what your wishes are. People can only help if they know.”
Screw the superstitions. I like her logic way better.
I work a lot.
Like, A LOT.
And I love my job. It’s ridiculous and fulfilling and filled with the coolest people on this (and every other) universe.
But I work a lot.
And, when you work a lot, you tend to miss out on hanging out with your child.
So, tonight, I came home to a Billie who was dead asleep. Billie has often been dead asleep when I crawl in to hug her goodnight. In the beginning, I was racked with guilt. I was a terrible mom. I felt the pressure to be there for every waking moment on top of being there for my family financially. It has always been tough and stressful and I constantly struggle with my role as a mommy in the workforce.
Tonight I came home and kissed a thoroughly asleep Billie. She unconsciously wrapped her arms around my neck as I kissed her cheek.
“Did you catch all the dragons, Mommy?” She says this without waking up.
Yes I did.
Mommy loves you.
“I can’t take a shower. All I can do is stay alive. And poop.”
“The Sandman got me in my eyes. Right in my eyes. All they want to do is close. I don’t think he knew that I was trying to party.”
Billie: “Mom. I can’t keep talking to boring people. When I talk to boring people my tongue wants to run out of my mouth. My words die. I have to save my tongue. From now on, I just want the weird people. They make my mouth happy.”