Awkward Mom vs. Reboots

If my obsessive comic book reading has taught me one thing, it has taught me this: never ever plan a vacation to the Savage Land.

OK, I suppose, comic books have taught me many things, but here's the most important one: you can always reboot. You can always begin again and you can always start over. Adapt, alter, relaunch, blame it on Skrulls. Change it all; your story arc, your powers, your computer, pretty much anything goes in the comics. Captain Marvel is now a woman. How many Spidermans are there? The X-men change teams pretty much every issue. And don't even get me started on movieverse vs canon vs that weird mutant ninja turtle fan fiction some guy your cousin knows is writing. Everything is a playground of fresh starts and new eyes, just gotta get something down on the page.

So, what's my point? Am I gearing up for some massive change to this blog? Am I going to vlog makeup tutorials like a millennial? Am I prepping you for the unveiling of my gothic steampunk My Little Pony fan fiction? (You know you want to see that.) No, no, nothing so ambitious. I am merely returning to the beginning of the story. Well, not really. Rather the story as it stands now. We're just gonna start right here and now because no one has time to go back to the beginning.

Anyway, right now has doughnuts. 

I'm rebooting this blog because it's time. It's time because sometimes superheroes stop telling their stories for a little bit. They don't stop living their stories, but maybe it's time for a quick time-out in the action. You know, a pause to study with a shaman in Tibet or backpack across the US or a quick trip to another dimension or maybe a move to a new place and another baby and so you kinda lose yourself in the daily minutiae of raising 5 kids and not drowning in laundry and making new mom friends and way over-committing at the school and then getting super sick all the time because of total lack of self-care and then you turn 40 and wonder who you are as a person not just as a mother  and have a massive existential crisis and get depressed and then get back into therapy and decide to start writing again because well you aren't sure but maybe it will bring the joy back. I mean, you know, hypothetically.

So, let's get started, no need for origin stories, right? You know how superherohood/parenthood works; flailing about a lot in lots of green slime with some screaming. Caught up? Cool.

Today is Thursday. It's a normal March Thursday, meaning we are sick to death of winter and also sick to death in general. I am home today but I shouldn't be. (Should and Shouldn't still reign as Awkward Mom's biggest nemeses.) I just finished helping with the school play and am launching into the Book Fair. I am also Cookie Mom for Super Daughter's Girl Scout Troop because Saying No and I have been fighting a lot lately. She's winning.

Super Oldest also has trouble saying no. 

Super Oldest is currently at school; taking advanced math, excelling in every subject, playing clarinet, singing in the choir, acting in the school play, practicing his ballet, tap, and jazz moves, reading about Greek mythology, and winning a war on the school's recycle policy by getting them to add plastics and metal. 

He did all of that today. 

Super 2nd Grader is winning his war on no shirts. 

Super 2nd grader is currently on the couch; he threw up 6 times last night and is the reason we are home today instead of setting up the Book Fair. He is surrounded by 3 imaginary friends and they are having an animated conversation about a future trip to Mars. He has refused all offers of Gatorade and toast, saying that Invisible Grandpa gave him "a brew of herbs from the past." 

Sounds magically delicious. 

Super Daughter has zero trouble saying no. 

Super Daughter is at school and she may be principal by now, things seemed to be heading that way last night when she breezed through her homework, her brother's homework, and some of Awkward Dad's medical notes that were on the kitchen table. I'll pick her up around 3, take her to her scout meeting, softball practice, and perhaps the UN to broker peace in the Middle East. We'll see where the evening take us.

The evening usually take us wherever Super Daughter wants to go. 

Super Preschooler doesn't fight with No or Yes, he just abstains.

Courteously. 

Super Preschooler brought down a collection of trucks and cars to entertain Super 2nd Grader. That Super 2nd Grader would throw them across the room because they were "bothering Borgee," isn't something that could have been predicted. I guess Imaginary Spiders aren't into vehicles. 

Super Preschooler wasn't bothered. Not much bothers Super Preschooler. 

He just moved his vehicles to a different room and is now developing a colony of diggers that he calls "the Land of Excavators." 

We won't see him for the rest of the day. 

Super Baby doesn't say much, but she can say no. 

Super Baby is in nap prison after I caught her playing in the downstairs toilet. She was extremely distressed to be removed from her game of splashing her hands, and a nearby (entire!) roll of toilet paper, into this fun bowl of water she found, exactly at the right height, now that she can pull up. I cleaned her but haven't attempted the bathroom. That can wait until later, along with the mess of strawberries she used to color on the kitchen walls, the cereal that she threw all over the den, and the puddle of mysterious origins that has sprung up in the dining room. It can all wait. 

Everything can wait while I admire those apple cheeks. 

That's what's going on here. I mean, along with the laundry and dishes and wishes and garbage and disappointments and dreams and sheets that need to be washed and too many toys and cat vomit and fights with friends and concerns that life is passing too quickly but why won't bedtime come faster and maybe we could afford a trip to the Savage Land you know if we stopped eating out all the time and really buckled down and I guess I better make lunch because I don't think Invisible Grandpa brought past-brews for everyone. 

Nice to see you again, Readers!

Tune in next week;

It's Spring Break and, since we aren't going to the Savage Land, 

I'm sure there will be loads of home adventures for me to awkward up!