If you've ever wanted a good concoction of paranoia try living in an area where there are smoke plums all around burning sugar cane fields and big puffs of smoke from the processing plant.
In a non-global pandemic year you would feel a variety of what people now call Covid symptoms off and on from about September to February while processing and harvest is taking place... during a pandemic... you just can't seem to decide if you should get tested or if it's just sugar cane season symptoms.
While the rest of the country was trying to attach a negative connotation to January 6th, Louisiana was celebrating Epiphany and the beginning of King Cake Season. More commonly known as Mardi Gras.
I got a wild hair about myself this year and decided to make a more complicated recipe to eat on Epiphany, a school night none the less. That won't happen again. I think in future years I'll stick to French King Cake during the week and Murmurs of Ricotta on a weekend. I find I bake sloppy when pressed for time.
How do y'all like that 10 year challenge that has been going around? I tried to get a photo with Jeremy as well... but it appears he didn't take any photos in 2012.
In what is now the most depressing news of my motherhood... Elliot has gotten to a point where naps work against us. With a fabulous weekend nap I find he is ready for the club scene and is hosting his own personal rave with a variety of flashlights until 10pm.
Harry, my sleeps late kid, doesn't appreciate this development.
So we've resorted to "rest time" where in Mama picks a movie no one wants to watch and they have to lay there for the hour and a half and briefly pass into a cat nap while the dog chews his bone on top of them.
It worked.
But nap time was my time to catch up on television and that has now been eradicated from my spare time... probably for the better.
What he has recently done is decided to wake up incredibly early, let the dog out of his kennel, and then haul off stirring up whatever trouble he can find. This past Sunday that involved locking a "hasn't been let out yet" puppy in his bedroom and coming into the bathroom to tell me he pooped (he didn't, the dog did). Later on, without a diaper, he decided to take his potty training booty and poop in the playroom
Jeremy feels the dog is becoming a bad influence on the children. Pooping in the playroom and all.
Early, 5am early, this morning I heard footsteps. Jeremy wasn't quite as alert to this, blame mother brain. Suddenly I saw the glow of an owl flashlight and heard the terrifying sound of a three year old attempting to let the dog out of his kennel. AT 5AM.
I was quite the feat to get him back into bed and convinced that if he escaped again that it wouldn't bode well for children today.
In other news, Elliot needs a haircut. Jeremy wanted to let it grow, and eventually his bangs would just magically stop falling in his eyes and go to the side.
I'm here to personally tell y'all that no amount of aerosol hairspray can keep this child's hair from his eyeballs.
So I put it in a pony tail, created a massive temper tantrum. His brother came home, gave him one glance and Elliot attempted to waylay him half to death. To which Harrison remarked "Maybe he has an attitude problem because he looks like a girl."
Au Contraire.
Maybe he has an attitude because he's Elliot an he came out this way.
