Maybe you have the answers to a few of these questions that I often ponder....
Why is that right after I clean the bathrooms--specifically the toilets--someone takes a messy poop and re-dirties it?
Why is it that when I see my kids doing something cute or sweet, I pull out the camera, and wham!, that ends immediately?
Why are most of Ryan's hockey games lately scheduled during my child's naptime?
Why when I have money to spend at the mall I can't find a dang thing?
Why when I shouldn't buy something at the mall, I find a million things?
(Okay this is sarcastic) Why do children point out the obvious to us? Example: Olivia yesterday: "Mom when it's winter it's cold out." Me: "yes it is Olivia." Inside my head I'm thinking, "Well duh, I've lived in this hell hole of a state for 34 years, and I hate winter!" But I would never talk like that....
Why does cold weather across certain parts of the United States--or snow for that matter--make national news? I thought New Yorkers were used to this weather. I guess not.
Why are my children incapable of resigning themselves to the fact that they are exhausted? It is so hard on their pride to say, "Wow I'm tired."
Why after I buy $125 worth of groceries is there 'nothing to eat?'
Why does Olivia not cry when girls at the salon comb her hair, but at home, you'd think she was being tortured?
Why is food at everyone else's houses so much better than at home?
Why did Kate put marker on her eyelids to 'see how it would feel?'
Why is a quiet two year old usually a naughty one?
By the way, I most certainly have not asked why to the things Brady has done in the last week: put my brush in the toilet, put my toothbrush in the toilet, squrited toothpaste on my carpet, smeared toothpaste on my toilet seat, and dumped numerous handfuls of uncooked noodles on the floor.
And those are the things I dare blog about. I will hint this much: he has become almost obsessed with my...ahem...chest. Squeezing, squishing, asking, squeezing some more, and asking if they are penises like he has....god lord.