yesterday, I let ezra run around diaperless until he pooped on the floor. this would be okay if we were in the midst of potty training but alas, we are not. no, I was deep into the wonderful world of fred flare (creating a christmas wish list, natch). apparently, the only thing capable from ripping me from that world was the hearty declaration of poop on the floor.
and then later on that afternoon, while both ezra and ward were napping, I fell asleep watching an HBO documentary on eating disorders. which, again, would be perfectly okay if I had not awakened to find ava watching the tail end of it (yes mom, I know-- the very reason we shouldn't have HBO in the first place). I have no idea how long I slept or what she actually saw or if it made any sort of impact on her at all. I downplayed my reaction and asked the smallest amount of questions as she seemed completely unaffected. frankly, I can think of worst things for her to have seen, but still. I found the whole thing horribly, horribly troubling.
and then I threw a fit when we decided to spend saturday night at mcdonald's. normally, I'm quite skilled at masking my disappointment in these situations (particularly where the kids are involved) but something about saturday night and the thought of those unhealthy happy meals and all those screaming kids racing through the tunnels of the playplace... I don't know. so depressing. before I knew it I was yelling something about how there were going to be apple slices ordered instead of french fries (wow, I'm so tough) and how everyone better eat every last apple slice OR ELSE. or no playing on the slides! OR NO MORE MCDONALDS. EVER. and then I pouted for a very long time.
last night I had a dream about a giant orange sea creature trying to devour my children. that's WHAT I GET.
no, I'm not going to win any motherhood awards. not for my saturday shenanigans, anyway.