Remember those days that you'd want to crawl in a hole and die because your mother was just that embarrassing? She'd sing loudly in the car, dance around thinking she had rhythm and just in general do everything she could to make you feel a uncomfortable as possible?  Yeah -- well I'm her.  

Yesterday as hubby and I were driving with both kiddos in tow and an Eminem and Dr. Dre song came on the radio.  As expected I started jamming out, rapping along with Marshall, getting my flow on --- and then it happened.  "Fuck you too bitch, call the cops" -- and Adam breaks out into hysterics and I couldn't help but want to crawl in a hole and die.  Seconds before I'm singing "Swiper no swiping, Swiper no swiping" as we repeat Dora's song on her handy dandy cell phone for the 4,971st time of the day.  It's almost as if I checked out of reality and for a moment in time and it was 1999 again and I was driving down I-94 in my 1992 Buick Regal smoking a cig, music blaring, sunglasses on and not a care in the world.  

And then....Dora comes on for the 4,972nd time of the day and I'm back.    

I then quickly realized I am my mother.  I can no longer sing along to these songs.  Not only is it clearly inappropriate for my kids to hear but my cool factor has decreased significantly since becoming a mom.  Yes, it's true.  I've tried to avoid admitting this for months, but I figure if I own up to it now, maybe I have a sliver of a chance of my kids accepting my dorkiness when they are older.  Most likely though, I will still be THAT mom.  

I was thinking this morning I'd like to paddleboard.  Not a good idea.  

Did you know I tried boxing?  Again...   

Going with my gut here and gonna keep thing simple this summer and not get too adventurous.  It may be short-lived and although my kids aren't old enough to appreciate it now, someday they will thank me.  

Isn't that just the loveliest oxy-moron in the world!  This mommy is going insane lately with the incessant "no's" that are flying around this house.  Literally, every other freakin' word is no.  I'm going bat shit crazy!  To the point this morning I found myself screaming "NO MORE SAYING NO!"  Yeah -- okay that's genius, Kristin.  I could almost visualize myself laying on the floor, stomping my feet, bending up my back and whining over and over again throwing my own tantrum begging for someone, ANYONE, to hear my pathetic plea!  

Then reality sank back in.  

I gotta give it to the SAHM's out there who stay at home with multiple during the day.  I thought one was tough?  Ha!  K is in preschool three days a week -- yes through the summer too -- so the other two days prove to be my weekly tests.  If I survive, there's a large cocktail awaiting at the end of the day that may or may not be consumed while wearing the same yoga pants I was wearing at 7:15 when they demanded I get out of bed.  If I don't make it, well... there's five large cocktails that will still be consumed in said yoga pants.  

My kids are high maintenance, I know this.  From the second my daughter wakes up, she wants to go shopping.  Every.  Single.  Day.  If it takes me a milli-second to get ready to depart in the house, full blown meltdown.  This morning she wanted a popsicle for breakfast.  Her options were yogurt, fruit or cereal.  She chose chips and dip which she kindly helped herself to and were laying in a nice spread on the kitchen table as I exited my short lived shower.  Seeming I had actual "work" to do this morning (as if I don't every other day) I nothing short of BEGGED her to watch Dora.  Yeah - that was a joke.  She's almost three and has ZERO interest in anything on the screen.  I'm sure I will be thankful for this one day, but unlike the other 9,999,999 mothers out there who secretly use it to babysit their kids, I don't get that privilege.  Come on -- admit it.  I'm not saying I'd plop her there for hours -- but a quick 24 minute episode would do WONDERS for my household chores!  

Anyhow, as our morning chaos continues, I'm trying to get #2 to nap in his crib, which my daughter has no intention of allowing to let happen smoothly.  As I'm laying him down, the cookie monster kitchen decides "he wants to cook with you" and she starts dancing around like a chicken with her head cut off screaming for a treat.  REALLY?   Like the French Onion Dip for breakfast didn't do the trick?!?!?!  

It took me approximately 48 minutes to get #2 to nap.  As I'm scrambling to document this wonderful morning I'm watching my daughter draw in chalk all over baby Katherine's head -- her toy baby.  Why you ask?  Because she's fucking quiet and not saying no.  

Bless this moment.