carpe diem!

so imagine you're fooling around with a three year old. running around, wrestling in the halls, chasing each other, this is all hypothetically speaking, and you pretend to push her and she actually pushes you back. not expecting such force to come from a three year old you bail.

picture it: slow-mo. going down. definitely going to eat the carpet, skinning your legs, elbow, and whacking your head on the wall. all the while making some sort of behemoth, or equivalent, noise. just like a gigantor alien falling from the sky, slowly, crashing down to earth and making an ungodly sound. in the background the sound of a small birdie's voice giggling uncontrollably and squealing "MOMMMY DOWWWWN"!!

you're totally getting that this is completely hypothetical, right? this can't possibly happen to anyone, let alone me.

shh! my ego is completely broken. &well don't ask to see the war wounds i will not show you, ever. kapeesh?

not only did this scenario not happen, it was the beginning of the end. it paved the road right through dinner onto bedtime and afterwards. at least here i sit. could be worst, right?

walk into the bathroom tonight after the nuggets get into bed; tidying up the towels etc from their showers. still steamy. look up and to my horror this is what i see...

not creepy at all, is it? thankfully after i screeched like i was the first person to die in a horror film. running up the stairs while the bad guy chases me as opposed to being completely logical and running outside where there are people, maybe people that could help me.
i gave myself a pep talk:

okay stacey. get it together, man!
you're on the top floor of an apartment building. 
this is a completely flat wall. 
not to mention, it's on the driveway.
many people drive there constantly.
wait, if it IS a peeper. props! must be the new-age
spiderman. hells ya! 
i will reward them with peeping if they are in some way
heroic and have super stealth powers!

i'm okay. promise. took me a bit, but i think i have figured out that no, i am not being stalked by some creepy person. in fact, if you look closely - it's on the inside of the screen, which means. this is my hand.
hello hand i bid you adieu!

after cleaning up their mess, i decided it was my time for a shower.

are you still following? 

believe me. i wish i didn't have this much to tell you tonight. it was supposed to be an easy day. it was a louloubirdie and mommy day. full of cleaning/laundry and her being a goofy goober.

see:

back to the previous story before getting derailed...

hop in the shower. i had a time limit -- it's totally thursday, good shows - yo!
hop in the shower, decide tonight is the night i finally buck up and mow my legs. dood they be beastly! i always follow the ideal that it's winter and i need to keep my legs warm, but at + temps, they're turning me into a liar. so i shaved, finally! get shampoo in my hair start washing my body down and i hear..

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP! (you get the idea..)

well slap my ass and call me jenna jamieson, the firealarm is totally going off. so now i'm hopping OUT of the shower slathered in my lovely body wash, shampoo in my hair, me be starin' at the creepy hand print still in the window running down the hallway stark with a towel to unsound the alarm.
really?
reeeeeally?
this could only be the prequel to my failing reality tv show turned movie, right?

all bets are off. this shit has gone craaazy.

don't worry. no small babies were scarred for life during these unfortunate events and i promise nobody was roundhouse kicked in their junk. although, karma for some reason is kicking me in the junk tonight and ya it got me good!

i'll let you know i am now happily vegged on the couch watching some good ol' boob tube and best of all -- safe from any mishaps from happening.

this has all been brought to you from my broken, beatin', completely demolished ego. i need chocolate.