Swordfish and Snickerdoodles

I do dishes in a disco tech. The lights flash on, then off, then on, and I rinse a coffee cup. The baby’s found the light switch and a way and I let him because he says, “night night” every time he turns the lights off. Night night is my dream at 3 p.m. when there’s only dishes and a sinus infection, but instead I’m at the disco, rinsing with my eyes dilated as the fluorescent lights flicker.

I’ve been a momma for 5 years now, on and off. Some days, sinus infection days, I would try to quit. I know better now, so I do dishes and make snicker doodles and let the baby play with switches. I praise the Lord it’s not my dish washing soap again, or the toilet bowl. Babies and toilet bowls. I tell you.
I’m pretty sure I’m short of cream of tartar, so I dump the whole thing in and hand the bottle to the baby. Babies love spice bottles more than toilet bowls…usually. Cookies will probably be good even if they lack cream of tartar. These are my nuggets of wisdom. 
“Tobin’s climbing on the table like a giant sword fish,” my five year old says. I have to go. There’s a swordfish on my table.
I haven’t had much time for blogging, or blogs. I’ve found my toothbrush on the ground in the laundry room again. I wonder why I still have this blog, here, when I’m the one who needs advice and cream of tartar. Then I remember my life, and how freaking amazing it is in all it’s ordinary glory, and how you probably want to hear about it. Because, not everyone has a sword fish on their table. 

17 thoughts on “Swordfish and Snickerdoodles

  1. I also need to know about your wildlife cookie jar.
    And please keep blogging because you writing about your ordinary glory stuff reminds me there is glory in my ordinary – even the messy, hard days, there is glory.


  2. I got the cookie jar on sale on my birthday. It was at Anthropologie, and I think it was 70 % off. I wasn't going to get it because my husband thought it was a crazy, ugly thing. Then the lady next to me said, “oh you HAVE to get it, it's wonderful”
    So then I knew I was right. It's ugly in a wonderful way. Thanks lady.


  3. Do NOT stop writing to us about your gloriously ordinary days. Although, you lie. Swordfish on tables, are not ordinary. Sinus infection laden days where you want to quit – oh yes ma'am. I love your kinda ordinary.


  4. the bare fact that your offspring use similes about giant swordfishes makes me want to move into your disco jam of a house. which is maybe not what you were hoping for, so i shall ease your panic and settle for reading this here blog. distant second, but it'll do for now.

    recap: what have we learned here? keep writing, or nic shall move in. funny how this can turn one into a lifelong blogger.


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