Oh the things I say…

Normally, I love telling Blane funny stories of things the kids say or during the day while he’s gone, but for the past several months, Tara has probably reported to him the equal amount of mommyisms to him.

I don’t know what’s happening to me, but I just can’t speak correctly anymore. And my driving skills are flying out the window. Is it just part of being a mom? I don’t know, but it’s awfully confusing to my kids.  Here are a few examples:

1.  About two months ago, I confidently introduced one friend to another, calling her the completely wrong name. Embarrassing, but thankfully she handled it well.

2.  I regularly tell the kids to go put their toys or books in the trash instead of on the shelf or in the box.

3.  (Tara’s personal favorite) One day, I told Brant to hop in the toilet instead of the tub.  He promptly began crying and Tara thought it hilarious.

4.  Finally, the one I was able to get the best deep rolling laugh out of after the fact:  when the kids I and took a trip to the grocery one day, I drove over two of those cement blocks that are supposed to make you stop driving (meaning the one for my parking space and the one across from mine).  They ended up underneath my car.  I was mortified, got out of the car, walked into the store with the kids nervously laughing, and called Blane.  I was extremely afraid that I was in a really bad situation.  The only thing I could think of was that someone was going to have to come lift my car off of these blocks. Do you see the nonsensical ways of my thinking these days?

A bit nervous as to Blane’s response, I was pleasantly surprised to hear him burst into laughter.  He couldn’t understand why I didn’t keep driving to get them out from underneath the car.  I was too afraid, I told him.  The conversation basically confirmed my thoughts of how only I would get myself into a situation like this.

So, we came up with a game plan and I went back out to the car  (after mustering the courage).  At first, I acted like all the other people in the parking lot I saw (to my mortification) that were gaping at the minivan that drove over the cement blocks and stayed there. Then, I boldly walked up to the car, laughing, put the kids in, and got in.  Then, I promptly got out and asked a man who pulled into the spot diaganal from me and asked him if he’d help direct me because, I explained, I was afraid of damaging my car.  Better yet, I said, “Would you please just do it for me?”  (I don’t know which part of this story is most embarrassing.)  Needless to say, I successfully drove the car back over the two cement blocks , without any damage to my vehicle.

I have to comment that I noticed that strangely, where I parked was the only place in the entire parking lot that had those silly cement blocks. I am also happy to report that I noticed shortly thereafter that both of those cement blocks were removed from the parking lot.

I hope that one day, the brain cells that seem to have been fried from sleepless nights and tiring days with small kids do grow back.