Skip to main content

Entrepreneur

 Mercy.  The anxiety level has crept into the red-zone around here.  I was in the shower the other day and smelled onions.  It was me.  That's how I knew I'd let the anxiety get out of hand.  Anyone else smell like onions when they are stressed?  Is that just a me thing?  Maybe that's just a me thing.  Oh well, just add it to the weird, middle-aged body function list.  

I had to gather myself and take stock of things.  Worried about the nation? Check.  The state? Check.  Our community, friends, family?  Check, check, and check.  Boy, I'm sure glad I'm doing everyone's worrying for them.  I'll tell you where to send your thank you cards later.  

So I'm working on letting go of the things I can't control and trying to deal with those I can.  Like the piles.  The piles give me anxiety.  Dirty dish piles, dirty clothes piles, clean clothes piles, paper piles, book piles, toy piles, to-do piles.  My favorite one today: a #2 pile on top of an already clogged toilet.  Reality, my friends.  All the piles.  

While I was tackling yet another pile, I had an epiphany: Parenting is not for the faint of heart.  Duh.  But how do you know if you are faint hearted or not?  I mean, you kind of don't know until you try it.  But once you've tried it, you're kind of stuck.  Once they're out, you can't really send the baby back.  So this led to my great idea.  We have four kids.  They are at an array of ages and stages.  I'm pretty good at sharing (just not food; don't touch my food), and I like helping people.  Having kids is a monumental decision.  Wouldn't it be nice to see if it's your cup of tea?  Babies are cute, but they grow up.  You should really experience all the stages.  I can help.

For a small fee, I'd be willing to rent you one or more kids.  You could get the experience of a lifetime.  At $50/hr and a minimum of three hours, it could potentially save you thousands of dollars.  I'm doing this for you, friends.  And it would be really convenient if I could do it for you this Friday night from like 6:00 - 9:00pm.  Just throwing it out there.  




***Obviously, this is a joke...our kids aren't worth that much...kidding.  Just kidding.  Sheesh.  

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Pink Stinks

Our girls, like most four-year-old girls, love pink.  And purple.  And sparkly things, unicorns, butterflies, lizards and cats.  But especially pink.  Their brothers aren't so fond of pink.  They prefer the color dirt.  I know this because it's what they have chosen for the color of our walls, windows, light switches and their socks.   "Do you like pink?"  Emerson asked Fischer one day not long ago. "No." "Why?" "Because pink stinks !" Cue 'angry tears and screaming.' This of course delighted her brother who began using the line anytime he wanted to see her cry.  Which was often.  It didn't change her passion for the color, however.  She still demanded the pink plate, pink cup, pink shirt, pink shoes, and pink gum if she had the choice.  Because pink is the best when you're four.   Fast forward a couple of weeks.  The girls were collecting pieces of garbage off the van floor.  Why?  I don't know, b...
Post a Comment
Read more

Triple Threat

 People think we are raising twins, but they're wrong.  We actually have triplets: Emerson, Carter, and Carterror.  It's true.  Carterror doesn't hang around often, but when the days are long and naps have been missed, she comes out swinging.   Today, when we should have been napping, we ran errands.  We needed some grain for our cows, so before picking up the boys from school, we stopped at the feed store.  The girls spent a little time looking at all the fish, birds, and pets they have for sale.  Immediately, after telling them not to touch the tanks, Carter tried to go fishing.  That's when I realized Carterror had arrived.  I called her name to stop her and realized her shirt was exceptionally lumpy.   "What's in there?" I asked, pointing to her newly developed bosom.   "My kitty," she replied, pulling out a stuffed cat from her sweatshirt.  A minute later, we were walking down an isle of bovine parapher...
Post a Comment
Read more

Fear Factor

 Did you know that it has been not  scientifically proven that a baby can smell her mother's presence through a closed door.  It's probably the smell of fear that they are actually attuned to, but nonetheless.  I hold my breath and walk on tiptoe past the baby's room and still get busted nearly every time.  My fear is pungent. Besides waking the babies, I have another fear currently in the forefront of my mind.  Don't mind me, this is just another episode of True Confessions.. .  Here it is: the boys are getting so much outside time that they are building up incredible endurance.  It's great really, but it is   becoming  so hard to wear them out. It used to be an hour at the playground and we were golden.  Now, they basically put in an eight-hour workday, and it's just a warm-up!  Does anybody have a treadmill....?  Real school is going to be a bit of an adjustment for the big guy next fall.    Speaking of s...
4 comments
Read more