Worst blogger ever

After one too many creeptastic search terms that generated views to my blog, I took a hiatus. I continued to post the daily exploits of Stumps and Beans, but on the much less threatening facebook, where I know all 500ish people who have access to read about my children in real life.  I will backward blog the highlights into the archives to fill in the past three months soon. In the meantime, nothing motivates me to de-lurk out of blog sabbatical more enthusiastically than a ridiculously age-inappropriate Biblical-themed picture colored by one of my tiny daughters at their church preschool.

Don’t worry sweetie. Very few of our nightmares actually come true. And in truth, I hear that being violently impaled by a spear is actually a surprisingly peaceful way to die.

stumpsgiant

 

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On today’s episode of Dubious Compliments from Stumps

“Mommy your face looks like a sandwich ’cause it has moles all over it.”

I assume she is referring to my sun damage age spots large pores freckles.

Um. What types of sandwiches have they been feeding my children at daycare?

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In unrelated news, I am pleased to discover that Stumps and Beans are quite creative and am veritably bursting with copious amounts of understandable mommy pride.

For example, just today Beanie repurposed a pair of toenail clippers into a shank.

“No Beanie. Stop Beans. STOP!!! Mommy she got the clippers! Mommyyyy she is trying to clip meeee!!!”

It is worth mentioning that they are both sick so I am home from work and we are quarantined to the house. Only 170 more minutes until Husband comes home. Not that I am counting. Or completely disgusted from doing many hours of post-puke laundry. Or entirely out of BRAT diet ingredients, Florastor, and Pedialyte.

Or going stir crazy and slowly rapidly losing my grip.

I would be a really shitty SAHM.

Much, much respect ladies (and the occasional gent). I don’t know how you do it.

Unfortunately I can’t unremember any of this

One of my children has been throwing up all afternoon and the other has a 102 degree fever. Pretty certain the one who has thus far not started vomiting just has not started yet.

Alarmingly, cleaning up multiple episodes of The Pukes off of all of our belongings is only the second most disturbing reality of my Monday evening.

Having one of my children ask to have her “bottom temperature” taken (repeatedly) this evening unquestionably topped the list.

What. The. Hell. Kid.

I’m on it

Let’s be honest.

I think we all know that I am the last mom to, say, create a from-scratch leprechaun trap, have a leprechaun hunt, and dye the water in the toilet bowl green.

After I microwave a dinner out of a can, I may or may not have a history of bragging to Husband about how I lovingly toiled to prepare the family meal.

Nevertheless, let us state for the record that today is March 27, a full three days before Easter, and this year…

CIMG6243

the Easter bunny has got her shit together.

=

In 1776 when our founding fathers declared our independence by stating “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men (and I would venture to add, “women”) are created equal…” I think they were onto something.

While I myself am probably not Christian, I have a young daughter who most certainly is. Whether I buy into it all 100% or not, this post from Momastery represents everything that I could not myself properly articulate, but truly and sincerely agree with and believe.

If it were mandatory to take a class before becoming a parent (and in a perfect world, it probably would be), and I were the instructor (let’s pretend for a moment that I would be anything other than laughably unqualified to teach such a class), Glennon’s hypothetical letter to her son would be required reading.

To mistreat a child. The nerve.

Within the House of Stumps and Beans, a full-fledged theatrical tantrum is occurring at this very moment.

The words being tearfully, hysterically, and repeatedly screamed are “Nooooo!!! I don’t want it cut in sliiices..!!! I don’t want you to slice it!!!” 

From the sheer severity of this episode, one might think the “it” to which she refers is a prized posession. A treasured lovey. The family pet. Perhaps one of her fingers.

In the interest of full disclosure, the subject of this particular tantrum is an apple.

How can you just stand by and witness such tragedy?? Get off your duff, stop reading this blog, and alert the authorities!!

Callous people of this world – have you no souls?! Due to your apathy, ambivalence, and inactivity, a child is suffering!