The time I had to take an ax away from my 2-year old

Warning: potty language.literally.

We had just been to Jason's office holiday party, and how fun for us, we had a comedian perform there. Mostly marriage and parenting stuff- very relatable for us. "Jimmy Kimmel's sister," I mean Jill Kimmel-Bryan is pretty funny, and I told her I was gonna find those cameras she must have hidden in our house. Turns out I'm not the only mom who ever said that to her. Whaaaaaat??
On our way home Jason was telling me about this meeting he had the next day, at the Ritz. Poor thing, turns out he doesn't think the Ritz is all that. (Actually, it's not.)
The next day, I was reflecting about his wah-wah boring meeting at the dumb they-burn-quiche hotel. I remembered where he was AFTER I sent him this text:
Me- I hate your dog
Jason (at Ritz)- uh, what?
Me- Oh I forgot you're at your meeting
Jason- Everything okay?
Me- uh, yeah, sorry, I'll e-mail you.

And so I did.

Subject line: Why our house is way more fun than the Ritz‏

Hi there-
Since Jill-Kimmel-whatever-her-married-name-is-and-I-bet-she-hates-that basically spies on us in the mornings for her material, she ought to get some good laughs off of what she likely saw today.

I sweetly encouraged Anna to get out the door by 7:15 and then (ahem) "elevated" my tone, prompting a "don't rush me" "I have to" "no you don't "then go!" exchange. I fed Luke pink applesauce and dragged him with all his blankets and sickly Sophia out to drop Jack at school. I called her school on the way back to let them know she wasn't going in, while Luke screamed at me the whole time I was on the phone. Lucky me it was the actual secretary and not the recording, so it sounded like this: "This is Mrs. Price, stop that Luke, Sophia's not, Luke stop it, Sophia's not, Luke quite please, Sophia's not, Luke! Sorry my two year old is yelling, Sophia's not, Oh my gosh!!!, Sophia's not coming in today (click!)"

We got home to a dog who had thrown up in his kennel. I cleaned that up. Luke had an accident, I cleaned that up, Sophia needed her sinuses rinsed, we cleaned that up. I administered anti-biotics, advil, cranberry juice, waffles that she wanted and then didn't want, sausage that Luke wanted but the dog ate, and dog kibble that the dog wanted, then didn't want, and then threw up. again.

I handed Sophia a Newberry Award book to read by tonight so she could do her book report tomorrow since the quarter in ending and she only has two of three she needs done, went out side with Luke so she could get a break from his demanding two year old stinker pot self, where he got stuck in the swing. He then insisted that I jump on the trampoline with him, so I took off my shoes and stepped on a thorn and then crawled up onto the trampoline anyway to jump with him. Outside sounded like this: "Swing to the moon, count to ten, jump with me, ouch! I'm peeing! Then go inside don't just say I'm peeing!" Inside sounded like this: "Scoot your tushy back scoot your tushy back scoot your tushy back, I don't have to wash my hands, yes you do." Sophia needed quiet time, so we went back outside to water the plants. Peaceful watering commenced. I'm a moron and I never learn my lesson about what happens when I'm on the phone, so I called my sister.

I called Becky to apologize to her for judging the way she used to handle Aaron when he was 2, and to commiserate, and then I literally had to take an ax that you left out by the orange trees out of Luke's hands, and then with a phone in one hand and an actual ax in another I stepped in dog doo. Thorn in foot, crap on shoe, Becky is hysterical laughing at me, graciously accepting my apologies, and I quickly grew another arm with which to take the full size shovel which suddenly appeared in his hand away from him. He yelled that he wanted both the shovel back. It sounded like this: "I want the shubel I want the shubel gimme the shuuuuuubelllllllll!!!!!!"

There's more, but you know, it was only about 10:00 when I texted you that I hated the dog, and having just now pulled his furry bum out of the trash again, I can confirm that yes, I do pretty much hate him. These are the reasons our house is more fun then the Ritz.

Love, Katie (Luke in background: "I think I'm poopin'!" me: "Then go to the potty!")

and you're welcome, Jill.