Thursday, April 10, 2014

The top 5 things I should never be without...

I have dozens of photos to share and a couple of other posts in my brain, but I thought this one was urgent.  In the last 24 hours, I've come to realize there are a few essential items I (and likely you) should never be without.


  1. Parchment Paper.  I'd rather just go without the brownies or roasted broccoli if I don't have it.  It's a beautiful, over-priced, but oh-so-worth it roll of magical paper.  Shell out the three and a half bucks, bake some brownies, and cry with sheer joy when you can lift them out as an in-tact square to slice while they're still warm and gooey.  Then, stare in awe at your spotless brownie pan.  You're welcome.
  2. A full change of clothes for each of my children in my van at all times.  Whether it's impromptu stays at the grandparents, an unplanned stop at a splash pad, or an epic car sickness episode, I should be prepared AT ALL TIMES.  I'm typing this as I'm trying desperately to rid my nostrils of the smell of vomit.  Trust me.  Pack the dang clothes.  If you don't, your child will puke as you are paying for food in the drive-thru.  Then, he will have a heart wrenching melt-down about the fact that he's in a t-shirt and underwear with no clean shorts and he will have to forego the planned picnic with dad on his dinner break at work.  Consequently, you will  make your puke-covered child hide in the floorboard and swear not to move an inch as you grab the other two kids and hustle into absurdly over-priced children's boutique at the mall where daddy works.  Then, you will spend a nauseating sum on BOXERS for the near naked child who is huddled in the van floorboard because there are no shorts in the store cheaper than the meal you just purchased to feed your family of five.  It will all be kinda ok in the end, though, because the vomit victim will enjoy a lovely supper outdoors with his dad.  
  3. An arsenal of baby wipes, paper towels, cleaner, garbage bags and Febreze....in my van at all times.  I think the above scenario explains why this is necessary, but I will add that these items are even more necessary when the child, who is now sporting the designer boutique boxers, pukes up his entire lovely dinner just five minutes from the house.  Two...count them...two car sickness episodes between 6:06 p.m. and 8:03 p.m.  Blech.
  4. A device that reads my 2-year-old's mind.  Now, I realize this thing probably isn't even in existence, but I'm gonna pretend it is.  If I could just have a little insight as to why my child would rather squat and urinate in a ceramic egg in the middle of the living room floor rather than a toilet, I would be golden.  It also would've been nice to know where he'd placed my embroidery presser foot before I had to find it 24 hours later (tonight) after I contorted myself to rescue the box of garbage bags he'd wedged behind my sewing cabinet.  When I text my husband and let him know I'd found the presser foot while gathering supplies to clean up the frat house party off the back seat of my van, he called it a blessing in disguise.  I don't find anything bless'ed about puke.  Next time, I'd rather my blessing be disguised in a brownie.
  5. Coffee.  Especially since I now live in a land dry of good drive through coffee.  No Seattle Drip.  No Cups.  Heck, some days I'd even brave the equivalent of the Maywood Mart parking lot and walk into (gasp) a Starbucks if only there was one here in Canton.  Nope.  If I run out of coffee, I must go to the Dollar General Market, which carries Dunkin' Donuts coffee, or Wal-Mart which has DD and Starbuck's, purchase a bag of coffee, then return home and brew it myself.  Tragic, I know.  But, for a girl who regularly filled a Seattle Drip punch card, this has been an adjustment.  Now, I buy coffee every time I'm at the store...whether I have a full bag at home or not.  I.  Will.  Be.  Prepared.  
I'm quite aware of the "first worldness" of this post.  I smell like puke, and I'm a really tired, semi-delirious momma who needed to laugh at herself tonight.  I know some other momma out there gets it and got a good laugh, too.  

Solidarity, gals.  Solidarity.

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