No Preservatives.

Do those of you who have kids remember back before you had kids, when everyone warned you that "they grow up so fast" and you kinda rolled your eyes and thought "Get out of my face and also eat some tic-tacs"?. Well, then, you probably also know that you eventually find yourself saying that same annoying thing, because it's the truth. As I prepare for one of the scariest days of my life, August 24th- Riley's first day of Kindergarten (incidentally, I must point out how ridiculous it is that school starts on a Wednesday), I find myself becoming one of those stupid high-strung parents that I used to want to push down a flight of stairs. I am going to be that mom clutching on to her child's arm and sobbing as he tries to wrench free and run into the school to escape. Nightly, thoughts of how I will handle a situation in which he comes home sad because someone called him a name haunt me. Then the thoughts of "what if HE'S the bully?" crop up, and suddenly I'm some two headed worry machine, confused over which situation to cry more about.

It doesn't help, either, that this coincides with Zoey deciding to be Little Miss Independent. Seems like just a week ago she was still relying on us to get where she wanted to go (actually, I'm pretty confident that it WAS only a week ago) and last night, she climbed a stair all by herself. Actually climbed it. Then sat down and promptly fell backwards off of it. Do you know what this means? I mean, besides that we need to keep a better eye on her and possibly put pillows at the bottom of the stairs.

It means that I'm already missing having a baby. Which gets my uterus all whiny and shit. This is bad news. Everyone knows it's bad news. Craigslist, currently featuring several baby items that I hope to free myself of and profit from, knows that it's bad news. (Does anyone need a baby swing? Barely used.)



Today it's this little plastic cart, but tomorrow I'll learn to work the lawnmower. (The blurriness indicates the speed at which time is passing).

 Riley seems generally unphased by my decision to live on the precipice of lunacy. He's just being his comedic little self. He is obsessed with this "Lean Cuisine" commercial where the two ladies are eating Chinese food.

Lady A: What's that you're eating?
Lady B: Oh, it's (insert chinese food dish here)
Lady A: Oh, me too, except mine's from Lean Cuisine, so it has (while motioning her utensil over the dish in a circular fashion) no preservatives.
Lady B: Say WHAT? (I may have added that)
Lady A: That's right. (Circular utensil motion) No preservatives.

What does this commercial mean? It apparently means that Lean Cuisine has no preservatives- BUT! It also means that my son takes frequent breaks while eating, and random trips to the utensil drawer, just so he can spin a fork or spoon in a circular motion and repeat- in an appropriately nasal tone- "No preservatives". I'm talking at least four times in the course of an hour. Every night. I am boycotting Lean Cuisine.

"No preservatives" may or may not be the first name of his latest Sim child, in his latest family (The "sunny day blonde" family) that resides in the latest neighborhood that we've had to make up in order to accomodate another starving, full-bladdered family and their small house full of counters. What breaks my heart is how much he loves each and every one of his Sim's families, and is so concerned about their well being. Perhaps he already understands, at five, how fleeting life can be.



Again, the blurriness is the passing of time, not an indication of my phone's crappy camera quality.