The Wonder Years

Our kids are not normal.

I know this because how can it be normal for 3 children, ages 1,3, & 6 to walk around ALL day at Disney California Adventure Park in the blazing sun and do all kinds of fun stuff like this:

And this:

And this:

....go to bed at midnight and still be up at 7 a.m. the next morning????

I'm saying, it's not normal.

(This is excepting the teenager, who would sleep until 2 in the afternoon everyday of the week if we let him).

Yet, our kids were up at 7 a.m..

And they were wanting things.

Like breakfast.

And television.

And then Princess G tells me that there's poop smeared all over the toilet seat.

No coffee is made.

Baby Roo is sticking her fingers in my eye sockets and cooing "eeeeeeeeeyes."

J smells alarmingly like a toilet.

Mr. C and I ignore them for as long as we can (no, not even the poo smell could light a fire under our butts.), but eventually we have to drag ourselves out of bed and start being parents.

It's later, when they've been fed, we've been coffeed, I've cleaned one bathroom, and we're stripping down Roo because she's spilled milk all over herself, that Mr. C makes a sarcastic comment about how these are The Wonder Years.

Then he takes off her diaper and a surprise turd falls out onto the floor.

That's when I'm reminded why the cosmos partnered us up, because he looked right at me and dryly said, "More like the wtf years."

You hit the nail on the head honey. Nail. On. The. Head.