I’d like to tell you about my day. Because I can and I’m finding this blog thing to be very cathartic.

I’ll just jump in the middle here and say that God has blessed me with the three and a half year old that I’m pretty sure my mom always prayed I would have ever since I learned to talk. He’s extremely stubborn and has the sassy mouth of a teenager. Mind you, he was an angel just long enough to convince me to have another. Julia is one and a half and is still at the cute age where throwing food across the table and rubbing your dinner plate in your hair is still funny.

Anyway so I spent most of the day arguing with Gabe, which is really nothing new. That kid will argue about the color of the sky. I’m not even kidding. He was arguing with me about how he doesn’t argue with me. He spent so much time in the corner today that Julia must have thought it was a fun game because I found her standing in the corner after dinner, talking to herself.

So we argue a lot about naps–I want him to take them, he doesn’t. Julia takes her nap, and then I put Gabe down after. He says okay he’ll take a nap until it’s ACTUALLY time to go, then he starts complaining about having to take a nap (“If you say you’re the boss one more time I’m going to get a new mommy”) but I make him go anyway. Twenty minutes into it, he yells down that he’s done, waking up Julia. I tell him to go back to bed and not to get up till I get him. Then Julia yells and talks and rattles the bars on her crib for a good hour, till Gabe gets up again and tells me she wants me. So I make him go back to his bed because, officially, I didn’t go get him and tell him to get up (oh you will not out stubborn me, young man).

Anywho, we are all up now and we play for a while then have an early dinner because I have to go teach Pilates. I have to take the kids with me and meet Jay on the way home from work in the Urban Active Kenwood parking lot in order to make the class on time. Dinner is extraordinarily annoying from both sides. Gabe doesn’t want to eat any of his dinner, so I tell him, “Well, that’s it. Don’t ask me for any snacks tonight or in the car.” He says, “okay.”

I get shoes on the kids and we are on our way out the door when I ask Gabe, do you want to take your mimi (his blanket he has and sucks his thumb with…both my kids have one that we drag around everywhere). He says “no.” I ask 700 times to be sure, he still says “no.” I say, “Okay well you’re a big boy now and so if you don’t want to take it, then we won’t, but don’t ask me for it later.”

Our 15-minute car ride goes something like this:

Gabe: I want my mimi.
Me: We don’t have it, you said you didn’t want to take it. Sorry.
Julia: Ahhhhh!! (pointing)
Me: What do you want, water?
Julia: (knocks water out of my hand) Ahhhhh!
Me: No, sorry, you’re going to have to do without. Maybe next time you’ll remember to bring it.
Julia: Ahhhhhh!
Me: What do you want? Water? Blanket? Toy?
Julia: NO NO NO NO
Gabe: Who is this singing on the radio, it’s funny.
Me: John Mayer
Gabe: John Bear? Why is he singing?
Julia: Ahhhh!!
Me: What do you want, water?
Julia: (takes water)
Me: Because he likes to sing.
Gabe: But why?
Me: Because he’s good at singing and playing the guitar.
Gabe: No he isn’t.
Me: Yes he is.
Gabe: No he isn’t. He plays the guitars and drums.
Me: Oh, okay then.
Gabe: Mom, what’s a Gun-tar?
Me: Gabe, it’s Guitar.
Gabe: Okay then what’s a gun?
Me: I don’t know, something we don’t have.
Julia: (loosens lid and chucks water on the floor)
Gabe: I want to listen to Amy Winehouse. Get it for me.
Me: What’s the magic word?
Me: Okay, when the traffic lightens up, I’ll look for the CD.
Gabe: Did you find it yet?
Me: No Gabe, I said I’d have to get out of this traffic before I look.
Me: Well I can’t look through the CD holder. I do not have x-ray vision.
Gabe: Did you find it yet?
Me: Yes, yes, I did, here you go.
Gabe: This isn’t Amy Winehouse!
Me: Yes it is.
Gabe: No it isn’t. This is the “no, no, no” song.
Me: Yes, that’s Amy Winehouse.
Gabe: No it isn’t.

This goes on for a while. You might be asking yourself at this point, why are you arguing with a three year old? And the answer is simply, there is nowhere to put him in the car, and I don’t have any duct tape, and at this point I’m completely shot. Also this is when the fine words of Erin’s husband, Pete, enter my head: “Give me one reason to not drive this car off a bridge and end it all.”

(We pull into the parking lot. The song changes.)
Gabe: THIS is Amy Winehouse.
Me: Gabe the whole CD is Amy Winehouse.
Gabe: No it isn’t.

I’ll save you the five minute round of “when’s daddy coming?” and the taking off of shoes and socks.

(Jay pulls in. I hurriedly exit and tell Jay “good luck.”)

And then I teach an hour of Pilates to 28 people who don’t really know what they’re doing. Except for the 12-year-old showoffs in their cheerleader t-shirts. (Mind you they stay after class to do more cheerleader-y annoying things.)

And I breathed for an hour. And I exercised for an hour. And I told people what to do and they didn’t talk back. In fact, some even clapped when we were done, said they enjoyed it, and asked where else they could take my class.

Sure, a woman also came up to me and asked why she felt like she was going to throw up the whole time, but hey, can’t win them all.

And now there is wine, a shower, some couch time with my hubby and more wine. And most importantly there was the overwhelming desire to come home and write it all down before I did anything else.

For those of you that know me, I have finally, FINALLY remembered who I used to be and why I don’t drive off that bridge.