What is wrong with this picture*?

*Disclaimer: Not an actually picture because I am too lazy for that.

I'm sitting here on the couch, nice and cozy under a blanket, drinking a cup of tea and goofing off on the internet while my kid naps. As a nice added visual for you, I am wearing a very sexy pair of fuzzy pink socks.

You don't see the problem?

It's May. And it's 40 degrees out, with a chance of snow tonight. SNOW. In May. I will let that sink in for a minute. Reminder: we don't live in the Arctic. Or Canada.

Earlier this week it was almost 90 degrees. Ella and I hung out in her kiddie pool to cool off. I got slightly sunburned.

Mother Nature is giving us all the biggest middle finger ever.

I will cry if I wake up to snow tomorrow.

The nap window

I really miss the good old days when Ella was on the 2-3-4 nap schedule. It used to be I could glance at the clock and know exactly when to put her down, resulting in a lovely 2-2.5 hours each day when I could relax and get stuff done.

Nowadays we are dealing with something I call the nap window. In a nutshell, it means each day there is this magical window of time when my kid will actually go to sleep instead of screaming/blowing raspberries/jumping up and down/banging on the wall/whatever else she does instead of sleeping.

Here's the problem: it's a total crapshoot figuring out when exactly the nap window is each day. If I put her down too early, she isn't tired enough to go to sleep. If I wait too long, she is overtired and somehow manages to derive more energy from her sleepiness. Either case results in her not napping, one tired mama, and a seriously cranky toddler.

There really is no point to this post other than I am frustrated with trying to figure out when in the heck to put her down for a nap. If anyone has suggestions on how to solve this problem I'd be more than happy to hear them. Or if you want to reassure me that trying to understand your toddler also makes you want to pull your hair out, I'd be more than happy to hear that too.

At least she's honest

I think all kids have this sixth sense about when their parents actually need to get stuff done or be out the door by a particular time. They then use this power to misbehave as much as possible until it dawns on the parent that nothing is actually going to get accomplished that day.

Take this past Monday morning as an example. I had an OB appointment in the morning, hoped to make it to MOPS afterward, and then had the unrealistic expectation to swing by the grocery store in the way home. When I got out of the shower, I could hear Ella shrieking and banging stuff around in the living room. I poked my head out of the bedroom door and asked her, "Do you want to come in the bedroom and help Mommy get ready?"

She looked up from trying to dump my water bottle on the table. "No."

I sighed, smiled, put on my most convincing Mommy voice, and asked, "Do you want to go in the kitchen and help Daddy get breakfast?"

"NO!"

Okay then. I jokingly asked her, "Do you want to stay out here and get into trouble?"

A big grin spread across her face. "Yeah yeah yeah!"

Sometimes being a mom is about knowing when to shut the bedroom door and admit defeat.

The Pinterest/Food Blog Rule

I am enacting the following rule for myself: No looking at Pinterest/food blogs when pregnant. Or possibly ever.

Why? Because now I have ingredients to make peanut butter granola bars, graham crackers, and frozen yogurt. What's the problem with that, you might ask? Well, now instead of already having peanut butter granola bars, graham crackers, and frozen yogurt waiting for me in my kitchen, I have to make them myself. And while looking at all these pictures of yummy foods and going to the grocery store, I conveniently forgot how little I would actually want to stand in the kitchen for hours making all this stuff. Somehow I don't think I'll be able to con sweet talk Jim into making them for me.

Truly effective birth control

People wonder what is the best way to keep teenagers from having unprotected sex. I think I hit on the perfect solution.

Make every teenager watch a video of my toddler throwing a tantrum for 30 minutes straight. (Why the epic meltdown? Because I dared to suggest she perhaps needed a clean diaper before going to library story time.)

The video will be captioned, "Forget about catching the clap. THIS is what you will have to deal with if you have unprotected sex."

I predict teenage birth rates will take a nose dive after being subjected to that ordeal.

Then, just to make the message sink in, I will make them listen to Raffi for 24 hours straight.

Operation Die Bugs Die

I killed my first scorpion this morning. I was vacuuming and kicked aside one of Ella's toys, and there it was, in all its mother-effing nasty stinging glory. Mama bear mode trumped my innate fear of bugs, especially the stinging kind. I proceeded to run it over with the vacuum then stomp on it for good measure, until it was completely unrecognizable. So unrecognizable, in fact, that I had a moment where I looked at it and wondered if I had freaked out over a twig or something (nope, definitely could still recognize its stinger).

I immediately called Jim and forced him to ask him coworkers about them. They claim they are no worse than bees. Great, except I don't want bees in my house either.

Operation Die Bugs Die has now commenced.

Best Monday night plans ever

New episode of Game of Thrones AND a new episode of Dr. Who. How did I ever get so lucky?!

Plus, we have both ice cream and leftover Easter candy in the house. We have a seriously awesome night ahead of us. 

Although Dr. Who had better not be one of those episodes with creepy children or anything scary (read: no Weeping Angels because those things scare the sh*t out of me and I have trouble sleeping for several nights afterward).