It would hurt not to blog this

This afternoon seemed never ending. And not in a good way. We made it home, woke up the kids from their car naps, and all you know what broke loose.

So by 5pm we were counting down until bedtime. We told the kids to run around – like usual – to get out all their energy. They did. And then Fynn ran into the edge of an end table with his forehead, which resulted in a purple bandaide smack dab in between his eyes and lots of tears.

He kept pointing to the end table saying it was “very sad.” And it made him “very sad.” And we were all “very sad.”

Paige was also “very sad” and very curious.

She was sympathetic, and showed us on herself with the lense cap where Fynn got hurt.

But our brave little boy decided that what would make him feel better was if we took pictures of everyone. So he instructed first to take a picture of Mommy & Paige {Mom and Paige, rather, but I refuse to acknowledge that he’s now calling me Mom instead of Mommy half the time…}

Then one of Fynn and Daddy

but after that one, I told him we had to take another one where Daddy didn’t look like such a dork {I swear I’m a nice wife, we were all just so punchy tonight…} Then Lucas started saying something about someone sleeping on the couch tonight in between his hysterical laughter

Through this Paige started feeling left out and desperately wanted to read a certain book. A book that no one else particularly enjoys.

Finally, we gave in.

She pointed to the first picture, and made a thoughtful “mmm” noise {which is how she asks what something is}. It was a little boy. With a bad haircut. So I told her “that’s a little boy with an awful haircut.” {again, I’m really a nice person, just punchy…}

Do you know what she did????

She then pointed to her brother!!! Which led to Lucas and myself laughing for about ten minutes with tears streaming down our faces, choking for breath. Because, honestly? Fynn’s haircut right now is the worst one he’s ever had. And we cut it three times in a matter of two days to try and make it better. It did not work.

Oh the honesty that comes from babes!

After we composed ourselves it was time to read Happy Birthday Moon, which is a lovely book. But Lucas read one of the lines, and I commented on the gusto with which it was read, and it was all over. The kids had no idea why daddy had such a hard time finishing the book, or why mommy needed a tissue to dab her eyes with for an hour, literally…

It was a trying afternoon, which thankfully ended in laughter instead of a trip to the ER since the fleshwound wasn’t too deep… we’re so happy that he caught himself on his forehead rather than, say, an eye ball. And we love our kids, so very much.

But seriously, I have not laughed so hard in such a long time. My cheeks still hurt. Right now even the thought of the little boy with the big purple bandaide, and bad hair cut,  is cracking me up. I’m not a horrible mother, or wife, just a punchy mama in need of a hot bath and big cup of chai.