cards

How was your weekend? Ours was pretty damn good.

We started out on Saturday morning by going to a local flower market event filled with crafts, questionable carnival rides (seeing rusty bolts only adds to the excitement), pony rides, and food food food. Surprisingly, Ana had a great time and didn’t pitch a bitch…until we informed her that we were leaving. Then came the standoff…

You guys would’ve been so proud of me. I was the patient, sensitive, and compromising mother that I read about in all those “How to be a Better Mom” books – yes, I read them…then I cut out their centers to hide valuables like Xanax or chocolate.

Eventually, I convinced her to head towards our car to check out the motorcycles that were parked behind us. It occurred to me that her intent was to knock them over like domino’s, just to screw us over. I made sure to hold her hand.

Once we got home, I flopped around until 5pm, then I got dressed and said “Bye everyone, I’m going to go workout with Aunt Joanne” (insert one of those ‘records being scratched’ sounds). Confused looks were exchanged, calendars and watches were checked. Yes, it was Saturday night and Aunt Joanne (my BFF) and I were EXERCISING, not drinking. I admit, it looked suspicious. But she was dragging me to some Zumba event being held at a local club (sans alcohol…ugh).

If you’re not familiar with Zumba, it’s essentially dancing like an uncoordinated fool in the name of exercise.

OMG, apparently this shit is serious! It was like a concert event, complete with T-shirts, a famous Zumba guest star, and screaming…plenty of screaming!

I started out clunky and out of sync but by the end I was thinking crazy thoughts like, “I’m soooo good!”, “Why have I never auditioned for So You Think You Can Dance?”, and “I could make a career out of this!” That’s the brainwashing power of a Zumba concert. Oh, and don’t even get me started on the Zumba guest star! Oh Ed, Ed, Eddie…I swear you were a stripper before you started doing Zumba. Now I get why all those ladies were there on a Saturday night. If everyone’s panties weren’t suctioned to their ass with sweat, I bet they would’ve covered the stage.

After Zumba we went out for a shitload of nachos and margaritas because self-sabotage is kinda our thang.

On Sunday, Mother’s Day, Brian woke up with the kids, made everyone breakfast, let the dogs out, and explained to Ana that she was to come to him with all of her demands (including, but not limited to, ass wiping). I laid in bed until about 10:30am, when it became apparent that I wasn’t getting breakfast in bed.

The children and Brian presented me with their homemade cards (my favorite). Collin’s said I was “Legit”- I don’t know what that means, but I couldn’t stop singing MC Hammer’s “Too Legit to Quit”. Maybe he’s encouraging me to not quit motherhood? Brian’s said something about me being the perfect mother (Let’s not go so obviously overboard…make it at least believable). And Ana’s…well, she made one with a modern impressionist drawing on the front (aka- no clue what it was), and one at school:

Fixing the plants? I had to ask the teacher if these answers belonged to another student, one whose mother can keep plants alive. Nope, Ana’s. Encouraged by her faith in me, I headed to a nearby nursery to purchase a trunk load of flowers.

As I strolled along the rows of plants and flowers, I could see them all shaking. I kept telling myself that it was the wind that made them tremble, but in my heart I knew it was fear…fear that I might choose them.

Here’s a pic of their death row holding cell: