Friday, June 17, 2011

Why The Dead Presidents Can BITE ME

This is how I spent my day:
8:00 a.m. to 12:30 p.m.
Venice:  I want Dowa!
Me:  Okay... we'll watch Dora, then it's Kegan's turn to watch The Wiggles.
Venice:  Okay, we watch Dowa.
Venice (singing at the top of her lungs): DOWA DOWA DOWA THE EXPLOWAHHHH!
Flash forward 30 minutes, while Venice interacts nonstop with Dora on the tv and Charlie wails.
Me:  Okay, now it's Kegan's turn for the Wiggles.
Venice:  I don't want it.
Me:  It's Kegan's turn to watch Wiggles... then you can have Dora again, okay?
Venice:  I don't want to.
Me:  Too bad.
I turn on The Wiggles.  Kegan is transfixed by the tv.  Charlie quits wailing momentarily and happily does the hot potato.
Venice:  I want Dowa.
Me:  You can have Dora when the Wiggles are done.
Venice: I want Dowa.
Me:  I know.  You can have Dora after the Wiggles.
Venice:  I want Dowa.
Me:  (ignoring her)
Venice:  I want Dowa, Dani.
Me:  (ignoring her)
Venice:  DANI!  I WANT DOWA!
Me:  I know, Venice.  You can have Dora when The Wiggles are done.
Venice:  I want Dowa.
Ad infintum, for the next 25 minutes, until the Wiggles finally freaking end.
Venice (singing along with the tv):  DOWA DOWA DOWA THE EXPLOWAHHHH!
Kegan:  *looking bored and flapping a little piece of paper*
Play this scenario over and over in your head for 4 1/2 hours.
12:30 to 1:00
Charlie and Venice nap.  Kegan is forced to stay upstairs.
Me:  No, Kegan... you have to stay up here until Charlie and Venice wake up.
Me:  No, Kegan... you have to stay up here until Charlie and Venice wake up.
Me:  NO, Kegan... you have to stay up here until Charlie and Venice wake up.
Me:  No, Kegan... you have to stay up here until Charlie and Venice wake up.
(What made this totally hilarious is that he was doing everything he could to get downstairs without me seeing him, from walking backwards with his eyes closed to sliding on his stomach towards the stairs.  At one point, when he was walking backwards with his eyes closed, I said, "Kegan, I can SEE youuu..."  and he waved his hand in front of his face to see if he was visible.  I love it when he does that.)
1:00 to 4:00
Venice:  I want Dowa.
Venice (singing along to the tv) DOWA DOWA DOWA THE EXPLOWAHHHH!
Kegan:  *hauls ass downstairs to escape the tedium that is Dora the Frickin Explorer*
Me (watching Charlie do his chubby ballerina throwing a tantrum routine):  Wow, Charlie!  Look!  No tears!  I'm impressed!
Venice:  He needs go night-night.
Me:  He just WAS night-night.
Venice:  Make him go night-night.
Me:  He just WAS night-night.
Venice:  NO, CHAWIE!
Me:  He's okay.
Venice:  NO, CHAWIE!
Me:  It's okay... he'll stop eventually.
Venice:  Put him NIGHT-NIGHT.
Me:  Let's color, okay?
Venice:  I don't want to.  I want Dowa.
It's a wonder, really, that I am able to function on an adult level.  It really is.
Here's how I entertained myself today:
I googled 234565432 pages of Betty Boop pictures.
I searched myspace for every person I went to high school with (found no one I recognized except for the people already on my friend's list).
I went to and checked to see if anyone I could remember from the olden days had died without me being informed of it.  Did you know that Andy Griffith is still alive? 
Googled everybody I could remember from high school.  Amazingly enough, quite a few of my classmates are google worthy.  I hate them all.
Messaged back and forth with one of my friends on how fat and ugly her ex-husband's new wife is.  Made some really bitchy but hilarious comments regarding said fat and ugliness.
French-braided Charlie's hair while he howled.
Put Charlie's hair in a pony-tail while he howled.
Gave Charlie a bun while he howled.
Tickled the crap out of Kegan.
Had in-depth discussion with Venice about Dora the Explorer.
Fed Kegan 2343234556 poptarts.
Fed Venice 2343234556 tootsie rolls.
Fed Charlie 2343234556 animal cookies.
Life is good, people.  LIFE IS GOOD.
AND?  I love my job.  True story.

After thought...

After just re-reading what I just wrote, it occurs to me that my boss quite possibly is NOT the 29 year old woman I had originally thought it to be.
I think, in reality, my boss is a 3 year old, sweet faced, blue eyed, pouty mouthed dictator.
How sad is it that it's taken me 2 years to figure this out...
Sorry, Wendy.  You're not the boss of me.  You need to go through VENICE.


The kids are buckled in to their respective car seats, Venice is squealing, "Play JUNGLE, Dani!  Play JUNGLE!"
I obligingly crank up Guns n Roses and we head on up towards the mountain.
Charlie, predictably, starts wailing as soon as we hit 199.  Also, predictably, I turn the music up and ignore him.
This is what I hear from the back seat:
Venice:  Come ON, Chawie!  Give me a BWEAK!  Stop ALWEDDY!  PWEEZE!"
Charlie:  *kicking it up a knotch*
Venice:  Do you MIND?  Good GWEEF!
I look in the rear view mirror.  She is sitting, hand on cheek, shaking her head and rolling her eyes, emitting deep, long-suffering sighs.
Me, in the front seat, thinking:  Why does this sound so familiar?
We get home.  Venice climbs out of the car and drops her backpack.
"Awwww CRAP!" she exclaims.
We sprint to the door, dodging rain droplets.  She looks at me and announces,  "Fwickin' WAIN, huh, Dani!"
AHHHHHHhhhh.  Now I remember where I've heard it before.
I have created...
Thank God she's so cute... she's gonna need it.
And in advance, I'd like to apologize to her mom and dad, future teachers and classmates, future employers, boyfriends and husbands.
Although, in my defense? I am NOT the one that convinced her she was a Princess.
I just encourage it