Draws them to me as a person, draws them to me as a writer. I hope that people are always drawn to what I do on paper because it rings true.
Because it actually is true.
That being said, and in the spirit of full disclosure, here are some real, authentic truths from the last few weeks of my life:
Truth #1. I feed my kids cookies for breakfast, both on purpose and on accident.
Case in point:
I brought Elizabeth to the office with me last Friday for about an hour before I dropped her off at daycare. It had been a very long week of battling a sore throat and that morning I was already running a few steps behind. I didn’t have a chance to feed her breakfast at home so, before we headed to daycare, I grabbed a pack of Nilla Wafers out of my office pantry. She ate them on the way to daycare chasing them down with a cup of milk, happy as a clam.
When we got to the daycare center, her teacher picked her up and asked if she’d eaten yet. Elizabeth held up her bag of Nilla Wafers and said, “Eat!” to which her teacher replied, “Oh, Cookies. Those are my favorite cookies, too!”
Friends, I swear to you that, until the very moment the word ‘cookies’ came out of her teacher’s mouth, it never once dawned on me that Nilla Wafers were cookies. Never once dawned on me that I was feeding my kid cookies for breakfast. IN PUBLIC, no less. It seemed like a completely reasonable, if on the fly, breakfast choice for my two year old. There are no fudge stripes on Nilla Wafers, no chocolate chips. There is no cream filling, no candy pieces.
Cookies? For breakfast? No, lady. These are Nilla Wafers!
Luckily, I have a BFF who’ll totally help me justify such things and comforted me by saying, “Look. Nilla Wafers are usually served with bananas, right? That’s totally almost a fruit. You’re fine.”
THIS is why she’s my best friend.
Second case in point:
Brodie has been asking me for days to buy him a box of Cookie Crisp Cereal. He watches the commercials and because advertising people are good at their jobs, the commercials work. Plus, he gets ready in the morning with little to no complaining. I figured the least I could do was buy him the cereal he wanted.
When we went to Walmart last night, even though I dropped a small fortune on his Kindergarten school supply list, he was most excited about the box of Cookie Crisp that I bought ‘Just for him.’
So, this morning before daycare, I fed him breakfast at home. Cookie Crisp cereal and milk in the big green bowl because it’s his favorite.
When we got to daycare his teacher asked me if he’d already eaten breakfast, to which I proudly replied.
“Yes. He had a big bowl of cereal at home.”
She didn’t ask what kind of cereal.
I did not volunteer such information.
Truth #2. Sometimes, I forget to feed my kids dinner.
Case in point:
I’ve already mentioned that last week was long and that I was sick, right?
Then maybe you’ll understand how this one happened.
When I got home from work on Wednesday, I was totally wiped out. I don’t do very well with illness anyway but, when you add a stressful work week and a husband who’s also had a stressful work week and worked until almost midnight, you get a recipe for disaster in the Nunn House.
I laid down on the couch at about 6:15 while the kids watched Netflix next to me and…
I totally passed out.
Blame the Theraflu.
When I woke up at 11:15, my big, blue eyed middle child was sitting about two inches from my face and greeted me with, “MOM. We FORGOT to eat dinner!”
Mother. Of. The. Year.
I wiped the drool from my mouth and, as sympathetic as I possibly could, replied, “Dammit, B! We DID! Let’s eat something right now!”
And that’s how we ended up eating Oatmeal and Cinnamon Rolls at 11:30pm on a Wednesday night.
Again, let me mention how amazing my BFF is because, she helped me feel better by engaging in the following text conversation with me.
Truth #3. I fight with my husband about gender roles. Also, I gender shame my kids.
Case in point:
Last weekend Jeremy and I ended up on the subject of gender roles. Something about Facebook and Target and ‘boy toys’ vs. ‘girl toys.’ Like those types of conversations sometimes do in my house, it got heated. I started getting loud. Jeremy started getting defensive, mostly because I started attacking him. I rolled my eyes. He stormed upstairs. I drove around town for an hour…fuming.
The next morning, after our initial, typical, ‘Krysten-cold-shoulder’ vs. ‘Jeremy-Mr.-let’s-talk-about-it’ routine, we starting talking like grown-ups again about glass ceilings and second shifts and shared household responsibilities. I apologized for rolling my eyes, he apologized for being a workaholic and…well…being born a white male. We made up. We agreed there shouldn’t be a difference between girl toys and boy toys, even if we agree about nothing else regarding gender roles. Our boys can play with dolls if they want to, Elizabeth can play with Tonka Trucks. We agreed that it’s stupid that shopping carts are pink and baby doll strollers are pink. We both think it’s stupid that pink is girly and they only sell Legos in the ‘boys’ department of the store. We talked about encouraging our children to view household chores, child care and cooking as ‘People’ jobs instead of ‘Girl’ jobs and then prayed about the world in which we’re raising said children.
It was good. All’s well that ends well, right??
Fast forward to last night.
We were on the way to Walmart to go grocery/household/back-to-school shopping. It was 5:30 on a Thursday. No one had eaten yet. It was hot. I knew I had three hours of shopping left before I could take off my bra (which is enough to piss anyone off, amiright?) and my boys were in the back seat fighting.
The big one pinched the middle one. The middle one gave the big one an Indian burn. The big one took the middle one’s spot. The middle one kept making faces. And so on and so on and so on…
After shouting, “KNOCKITOFFFFF!’ for the third time, I’d had it. I turned around and yelled:
“THAT’S IT! ONE MORE WORD OUT OF EITHER OF YOU AND I’M BUYING YOU BOTH PRINCESS SOPHIA NOTEBOOKS FOR SCHOOL AND MAKING YOU WEAR UNDERWEAR WITH MY LITTLE PONIES ON THEM, GOT IT?!?!”
I looked at my husband out of the corner of my eye. He looked at me out of the corner of his. Neither of us said a word about it because…Happy Marriage.
I knew what I had done. He knew what I had done. We wanted to laugh about it but, we didn’t.
I think we both felt redeemed later when Logan picked out a purple notebook for school because purple is his new favorite color.
Raising humans is hard.
Happy Friday, Friends.
go. do. be.