Be Still My Bleeding Heart

Outside my window today. P.S. It's still snowing ... 

Bad Mommie, Part 1 of Many
Conversation with my four-year-old while driving:
Ty: Mommie, why does Ethan like to hug me?
Me: Because he loves you, honey.
Ty: Why does Ethan love me?
Me: Well, because you're his big brother, I suppose.
Ty: Why am I his big brother, Mommie?
Me: Because you were born first, sweetie.
Ty: Why was I born first, Mommie?
Me: Oh, a crazy, crazy millennium new year's party ...
Ty: Huh?
Me: Um, never mind.

Warning to readers: If you do not have children and think that the whole kids-asking-neverending-question conversations that are in sit-coms and movies are just there to up the funny factor, you are wrong. They are real, oh, yes, they are very real. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

The Joys of Working at Home Pt. 2
The other day I had an online training class for some new software one of my clients uses. The software is pretty simple stuff, and I've already worked on it, so I wasn't exactly thrilled to have to subject myself to at least an hour of online show and tell. Add the fact that Brian couldn't be home to take care of the boys so I had to find some way to keep them out of my hair for 60 long minutes -- which will be hopelessly impossible for the next 10 years, at which time they will most likely refuse to speak to me and want to have nothing to do with me as most teenagers do -- and I was practically mortified. Fifteen minutes before the training, I sat them in front of a movie and explained to my responsible four-year-old that I wasn't to be bothered while he saw the phone to my ear. The class started without a hitch as I nervously darted glances to the stairs expecting to see one of my hellians bounding up to get a snack, complain about his brother or ask me several "why" questions in a row. Then, to my happy surprise, the conference moderator announced that she was putting the flock of learners on mute while she taught. Weeeeeheeeeeew! I was free. Let's recap what I did during that time, shall we? I fetched myself several cups of coffee, changed the cartridge and story on my two-year-old's Leap Pad after he got mad at it started banging on it and yelling at it, removed a strand of gum that my four-year-old had wrapped around both of his hands up to his elbows, and, I'm so excited to say, pee. (Not in my pants, mind you. I wasn't that excited for goodness sakes!) Now how many other decent, law-abiding folk can say they've peed while on the phone with 13 other people?