The Time They Used The “C” Word….

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I made you a cheesecake.

It was gross.

I mean, not gross gross. We ate it. But our bar is low people, like real low. If it has sugar and butter and whipped cream on top, we will eat it. But it wasn’t good enough to post. And that’s all I had for you.

The Sweeter Thing kitchen is closed at the moment. We move in three weeks and I’m just so done. We are living on fruit loops and cheetos. Which we are actually really cool with, everyone here really likes those two things.

But it’s been the week from you-know-where (h-e-l-l. Wasn’t sure if you knew where I was talking about. You’re welcome). Someone had the audacity to call this week and use that blasted “c” word in reference to me. I was like, “Uh no. Wrong number. I just ran a half marathon with my dad this weekend. We killed it. No “c” word here”.

They weren’t impressed. They are insisting that I step out of the denial and into reality and have them remove this silly thyroid. Which actually works for me, because then I won’t have hypothyroid anymore, right? It will just be gone. Man- if only everything were that easy. Problems solved America.

Did I mention our youngest is giving us a run for our money these days? Sheesh.

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This above photo is courtesy of last week’s tantrum. Because we had to quit jumping on the playground so we could go get Sis from school.

How dare I.

But then he does this….

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I mean. How do you even? With that face? Jump all you want sweet boy, Sis can walk home.  

Not really Anna. We love you. 

So that’s almost 300 words of nothing, just to tell you to please hang with me for a bit. I may not have a recipe to throw in here until June. And then it’s so on

Until then, I’ll keep writing. Because even if you quit reading, this is the place to document my little life and all it’s sweet things. And there are so many sweet things, even right now, in the chaos. We are big fans of chaos. We would prefer chaos that involves zero surgeries and fewer tantrums and zero people telling us that our kid should talk more or act different, but that’s ok. Here’s why: 

  • Surgery= mini mom vacation (good luck with all the diapers Mr. Sweeter Thing! I’m recovering…. LOL)
  • Tantrums= well I don’t really know. This one is stupid. Come on kid, knock it off. 
  • Kid Feedback= At least they care, right? They mean well, they want the best for my kids. Those are hard phone calls to make to parents who believe their babies are perfect and can do no wrong and may someday solve world hunger and bring permanent peace to the nation. Parents cry during those conversations, sometimes just to make the poor person on the other end of the phone feel bad. I mean, I would never do that, I’m just saying that it could happen. But seriously, educators have a tough job and I’m thankful that we have people looking out for the short people we are raising. 

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There are sure to be a few stories of pure hilarity in the coming weeks as we move from our apartment back into a house. I’m thinking I may just sleep in the kitchen for a few nights, just until the dream feels real. Meanwhile Ike continues to do things like put his lunch meat into his shoe and Anna is asking deep, theological questions that I am personally, not spiritually mature enough to answer. Should be interesting, so stay tuned…..