I'm not a cook.

Colt: Mom, when I get married, me and my girlfriend are gonna live with you.
Me: You really think so?
Colt: Yeah. And we're gonna have 3, maybe 2, or 1 kid. I'll let her pick.
Me: Hmm. Okay. Do you think that maybe you and your wife can build your own house? You can live next door to us.
Colt: Yeah. But what will I do for dinner?
Me: Ummm. Well, you guys can always come over. But you just have to go to your house when dinner is done.
Colt: Well, I'll make the dinner.
Me: You're coming to my house though, so I'll make it.
Colt: I just don't want you to burn dinner.

I'm clearly not doing a very good job being a stay at homer. FML.

How ready are you for your next vacation??

Rewind to December 20, 2012: We went to Wisconsin to visit Hans' family for the holidays. We were gone about 2 weeks and got home on January 4th(ish). 

Since I had so much unpacking to do when we got home between me, Hans, and Tenley, I asked Madi and Colt to unpack their own suitcases. I didn't think it was too difficult, they could handle it for sure.

Fast forward to today: I go into Colt's room to help organize it. As I pick up the suitcase to put at the top of his closet, I realize how heavy it is and open it up.

Me: Colt, you never unpacked?!?!

Colt: No. 

Me: Why? I asked you to.

Colt: Because I want to use that stuff for the next trip to Grandma's.

Hmmm. I guess that's one way to be prepared for a vacation that you're not sure when you're taking. 

Colt's Questionnaire

The worst part about moving every few years is that all of the good habits that I've established for the family are easily lost. It takes me quite a bit of time to get a good routine down again. 

So needless to say, it's taken me a little over a year to find a new dentist for the kids and get back into our habit of 6 month check-ups. 

We're in the dentist office and the Receptionist gives me A TON of paperwork to fill out. I'm already feeling overwhelmed with the fussy baby, the overflowing diaper bag, the 25 thousand Q&A forms, then Madi and Colt start arguing. After 4 or 5 times of me making threats through clenched teeth, I realize that I'm not  getting anywhere. 

Me: Colt, come over here and help me answer these questions. (Colt comes skipping over and plops down next to me.) You ready?

Colt: Yup!

Me: What's your name?

Colt: Colton

Me: When's your birthday?

Colt: Tomorrow.

Me: No...really. When's your birthday?

Colt: I don't remember.

Me: Seriously? You know you're birthday. Take a second to think about it.

Colt: Ugh...MOM! That was SOOO long ago! How am I supposed to remember the day I was born??!

How do I argue with that? I guess it makes sense. 

The next time Hans reminds me of the year I missed his birthday and our anniversary, I'll see if Colt's excuse works for an adult.