Outnumbered Two to One

• During my morning routine, I’ve got roughly three minutes to brush my teeth, rinse my mouth, wash my face and get dressed. I may or may not have time to finger comb my hair before I slip on some shoes and dart out the door to distribute my brood to their various school buildings. Those three minutes are crucial and counted down to the very second. Three minutes in the morning are nothing. They go by in a blink, a sneeze, a breath.

• Why then when I’m on the treadmill, panting like an overheated Labrador, do three minutes feel like an eternity? A forever of burning lungs and fatigued muscles and the slowest seconds of my life, next only to the torturous teeth grinding minutes of a contraction during active labor. It’s like a weird exercise time warp.

• Surprisingly, I didn’t eat much candy during Easter. I’m not gloating, there was an abundance of Hershey’s Kisses, Peanut Butter Cups and foil covered chocolate eggs to be had, but I preferred instead to overdosed on puff pastries, fried ham croquettes, and cheesy pasta. I also had some spinach salad somewhere in there, and some fruit salad, so it balances out, right?

•   My teen got a haircut last Thursday, check out the before and after.

• On the drive to the beauty salon, this darling girl embarked on a well rehearsed rant about the insignificance of hair, deriding her teenage counterparts who fought to keep their hair long, or cried actual tears when someone took a pair of scissors to their silky tresses. This darling girl had her heart set on a short haircut. Which she got. Which she proceeded to complain, whine, and cry actual tears about over the course of the entire weekend. Please tell her how cute she looks, cause Mommy’s compliments are apparently not good enough…

• And to prove that all my kids are not selfish little chocolate hoarders, here’s one from Easter.

• That’s my tween putting one of her eggs in to my two year old’s basket, not stealing one for herself. Not that my little guy needed any extra sugar in his arsenal. Earlier in the day we attended another hunt and while I was busily chatting away with my neighbor he must have digested at least a pound of chocolate confections. When we brought him home he proceeded to strip down to his diaper and fall asleep face down on his carpet in a half naked, chocolate drunk state. He didn’t even stir when I picked him up and laid him in his crib. Talk about crashing. Wow.

For more fabulous randomocity (it is so a word), visit Keely The Un-Mom in her fabulously random lair.

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