La Chupacabra

La Chupacabra, 2014

I would like to talk about why my teeth are flat in the front on the right side.  They've been ground into one short, sheer meeting line by way of powerful clenching day after day after day.  Of parenting.  My teeth are getting flat because of:

Putting on toddlers' mittens.  
You can try to not shuttle the thumb into the thumb part, sure, but you will suffer hot lava when that kid can't hold an ice chunk outside because of no useable thumbs.  You suffer now, or you suffer later.  You suffer.

Property Dispute, Case No. 32456 of the day.  
This shit is about to go Mao's China up in here if I hear one more argument about what's "mine!"  The screaming, the collapsing, the tearing of the clothes in anguish over that fucking play stroller.  Soon, little children, I am taking all your precious stuff away and giving it to orphans who will appreciate it.  I show my kids pictures of soccer balls made of twine and plastic bags and they still don't get it.  I think I should make them a soccer ball of twine and plastic bags and THEN give all their other toys to the orphans.

Teeth brushing.
They really need to develop a home anesthesia for this.  It would save my teeth to not have to brush their teeth, because they act like jerks about it almost every time.  It is all I can do not to replicate the sound of a dental drill as loud as I can in their ear.  To remind them why we are here.  What I am trying to save them from.

Glennon Melton said it first, so I feel safe:  Bedtime is altogether a Journey Into Hell.  
I love you if you are the parents who cuddle and kiss and gently click out the light over a quiet, smiling face.  I also think you have one child.  And you are drunk.  Also, rich.  You'll probably go back to bed and have sex with your spouse.  "Good for you".

I submit a referendum to rename dinner: "That time during which you spend a half hour trying to figure out what to feed three different children, fully knowing they will complain and not eat and then fall on the floor begging for graham crackers and you will be all, "how did it come to this?!  Why won't my children eat whitefish and capers like the ones in the creche and what did I do so wrong and WHEN IS THIS WINE GOING TO KICK IN, and then after storytime, 'Mama, I'm hungry in my belly'.  'Aww fuck, here's a graham cracker!'"  (See section entitled Bedtime; A Journey Into Hell)

Anyway, so that whole "Let It Be" Lisa is flailing right now.  I should be honest.  I am stressed out over here and I'm not sure I can handle the Atomic Mess.

Now that I've let off some 5:30am steam, I am taking one big suck of air, and getting ready to start again.  Everyone is adorable in the morning.


  1. um, yeah. that's about it with one kid. love it Lisa. thanks for sharing. i'll work on the million dollar idea of home anesthesia. pretty sure it's wine though.

  2. So funny and I'm so glad those days are over for me. I am ready to reap my reward....grandchild #1, in August. This too shall pass. Yeah, I hated it when people said that to me too and didn't believe it either. :)