The Daily Chai Has Writer's Block

I haven't bought today's chai latte, so I will give you a fake review. It was good.

Moving on.

It was bound to happen. I've been writing every day for just over two weeks and now I'm at a loss for something to write about. NOOOOOOOOOOO how will I entertain myself if I'm not writing hilarious hijinx about grammar and insane four year olds?
That reminds me. I went to the mall today with the girls and ate mall food. Delicious. Anna smashed some sushi like a fucking champ and Kate had her normal Subway sub, two cookies (which she always delightfully shares) and strawberry Frutopia. Then we got a banana, strawberry and Nutella crepe. Thrilling, I know!

We bought my ex a present for his upcoming birthday so the kids would have something to give him and then we got rain boots and hot pink converse for Anna.  I loved getting new running shoes when I was a kid, so she better appreciate the fact that I went to two different stores to find the exact right pink for her. At the first store, I tried unsuccessfully to convince her that purple was better than pink. No dice. She knew my game and wasn't falling for it. On to the second store where we were successful in finding two different pinks, both in her size. One on each foot, we walked over to the mirror and Anna gazed with deep satisfaction at the reflection of her feet in the mirror.

"Perfect! Which one do you like best?" I asked her.

"Both of them." If Anna could put charming little smiley face emoticons into her speech, she would.

"Tough, pick one." I replied unyieldingly. She made the right choice and went with the super cool hot pink instead of the lame baby pink. Journeys has the most amazing selection of Chucks just FYI.

She PROMISED me she would wear these sneaks and not rip them off in hysterics and refuse to ever wear them again once we got home. I requested this promise from her because this is what happened last year when I bought her brand new hot pink Vans (please pay special attention to second 12 of the video):

I love my girls. I really do. I'm glad I have both of them in my life and I look at them daily and marvel over the fact that I made human beings from scratch. But there are times, just some times mind you, that I wonder why I had children. Lovely little creatures, but they never stop talking. They are like me in that respect, but imagine, just fucking imagine for one moment, if you had TWO OF ME talking at you, telling you endless stories and asking a constant stream of questions, UNCEASINGLY FOR HOURS ON END. You would pray for bedtime too. 

Some of today's questions were:

Mom! Is the sun really getting closer to the earth all the time? Someone at school said we're all going to die. 

Mom! Why does the word shampoo have the word poo in it? 

Mom! Can we have a treat?

Mom! Is this crepe as good as the ones in Germany?

Mom! Does shampoo have poo in it?

Mom! Why do you have elastic bands around your car's mirror? 

Mom! Can we have a treat?

Mom! Why do I have to wash my hair?

Mom! Why is Elsa's hair yellow and Anna's hair is red?

Mom! Can we have a treat?

Huh, even with writer's block, I manage to have a lot to say. NOW IMAGINE TWO OF ME. Yeah. 

The Daily Chai Got a Late Start

Today's grande chai latte was shared with Kate who said it was delicious. I agreed.

The girls and I had to go out to the house today to pack and purge and make it look good for the pictures to list it. Things are moving forward in that department at least.

We stopped at Walmart to get some storage containers and we went to the girls' section to look for mitts since Kate has lost hers at the very end of the season when it's impossible to replace them. Thank goodness the warmer weather is coming! It is coming, right?

Wonders never cease, we actually found mittens. Kate is pumped about the awesomeness of her mittens pictured here:

Anna wanted mittens too, but she didn't like the only ones small enough for her so we left them. She didn't really need new mittens, she just wanted them. We checked out and Anna started to cry that she wanted mittens too.

"Why Kate gets mittens and I don't? I WANT MITTENS TOO!" she begins to screech as I'm hauling her out of the cart to put it away.

"Anna...my darling. You didn't want the mittens they had, so you didn't get mittens. You didn't need mittens anyway, you are wearing perfectly good mittens."

"BUT I WANT THEM!"

"Well, next time tell me that before it's too late and you will avoid being disappointed. Now it's too late, we have to go home."

"BUT I WANT THEM! KATE GOT MITTENS AND I WANT SOME TOO" Heartwrenching sobs begin to erupt at the tragic loss of cheetah printed mitts and the absolute bloody unfairness of big sister getting something as special as mitts and being the only one left out of the fun. I buckle her into her car seat as tears stream down her face and I say, "Dear girl. It's okay to be disappointed but you need to understand that just because Kate got something doesn't mean I'm going to buy you something too. I'm simply not going to do that and you need to learn to deal with your disappointment."

"NO!!!" She screams back at me. And she begins to spit raspberries in between sobs. Because that is pretty much the epitome of high insults when you're a preschooler. 

Breathe. Carry on. I get into the front seat as she continues to cry and I begin backing out of my parking spot. Suddenly a small pink mitt is viciously thrown at my head. The effect Anna is going for is probably lost as the mitten flutters harmlessly to the floor. I can't help it. I start to laugh. Like, almost peeing my pants laughing, tears beginning to form laughing, great belly laughs erupt from my gut laughing. 

"DON'T. LAUGH. AT. ME!!!!!!" Comes the shriek from the backseat. And another tiny pink mitt comes fluttering at my head. I laugh harder. Kate begins to laugh. Anna shrieks indignantly, "I HATE THESE MITTENS. STOP LAUGHING AT ME. STOP LAUGHING!" The last word is a shrill scream of frustration and anger that only a four year old human can produce. 

Suddenly, "ANNA, NO!!!" yells Kate, "Mom, she took off her boot and she was about to throw it at you!"

"Anna King, if you throw that boot at me I will spank your bottom and I will put you to bed for the rest of the day and you WILL NOT BE ALLOWED TO WATCH A MOVIE." There. That gave her pause. No boot comes flying in my direction but she is still crying. I start to laugh again, I can't help it, it's just so ridiculous how worked up she's gotten over a pair of mittens she didn't even want. 

"STOP. LAUGHING. AT. ME!" She screams again, her voice actually breaking in the effort to maintain the extreme pitch. 

I work my face into something serious and try to keep my traitorous shoulders from shaking in mirth and I say, "I'm sorry Anna. I'll stop now." Meanwhile, I have not stopped laughing at all and I'm pretty sure I just peed my pants.