Hey! Wassup?
This post was going to be about some pillows I threw together today with scrap fabric. I made one for the back of
this chair.
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| I found the gray in the remnant bin at Walmart today. Paid a whopping $0.71. The white was scrap I already had. |
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My sister gave me this pretty bird fabric. It looks blurry in the picture but it really isn't. The pattern has a faint shadow behind it.
At least I'm pretty sure it isn't blurry but it was a tough picture day so who knows. |
So I was all set to talk about pillows but I couldn't stop thinking about what a hard mommy day I had today. Ellie is launching head first into the terrible 2s which Molly never seemed to go through. Today was a shopping nightmare. She screamed to get out of the cart, screamed to get into it, screamed while walking, screamed while doing every. single. thing. I'm pretty sure she screamed while screaming to which I do tip my hat to her.
Two employees watched me trying to strap her back in while she was doing The Toddler Back Bend. You know the one...the straight knee-ed, arched back maneuver that every toddler is born gifted at being able to do while you are trying to A) strap them into their car seat, B) change a diaper blow out, and C) trying to get them back into the cart at Walmart. I was sweating, straining, and my glasses slipped all the way down to the tip of my nose. I'd like to say it was a super sucky mothering moment but that wouldn't be accurate. It was a super sucky woman moment. How did I get here? I used to be fly. I used to be all about dancing with my girls and having super bouncy hair and staying out late and stuff. That girl would be all "omg. gross. shoot me if I ever look like that" if she saw me today.
That all being said, tonight Molly, Ellie, and I laid on my bed while Molly watched TV. Ellie was in her soft fleece footy pajamas and she had finally stopped moving (and screaming) and was nestled in the crook of my arm. It was heavenly. It took me back to her newborn days when she would only sleep in the crook of my arm and her wispy hair would tickle my chin. I called her my kitten because that's what her hair resembled--that downy, soft, sweet fur. I secretly hoped she would fall asleep there and I would be forced to keep her tucked into me but alas, the 2 year old doesn't stop for long and she snuggled just long enough to get juiced back up and off she went again. But that snippet of time made the rest of the day blur to a faint memory.
And I realized I'm ok if I'm not fly anymore. Besides, that 22 year old me was always hungry and drank way too much diet coke and never got sweet nuzzles from Crazy Ellie .
Real Housewives of O.C. is on. Gotta go!
Cheers!
Jenny
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