So in honor of ALMOST making it through another work week, I’m going to unload a few confessions of events that have taken place during this cold, bitter, relatively mundane Iowa week.

First off, I was dealing with an emotional, stubborn, and demanding threenager that refused to understand that the dog’s food bowl was NOT a stepping stool to reach the Twinkies on the top shelf. Confession #1: Yea, I have Twinkies. And I don’t even feel bad about it one bit. Moving on…Confession #2: So in an effort to rest my aching brain from the emotional tornado that is Everlee, I told her I had to poop and I locked myself in the bathroom just long enough to eat a whole handful of HER Christmas candy. Muahahahha…take that, you tiny tyrant. That brings me to Confession #3: When she continually stuck her tiny tyrant fingers underneath the door while yelling “I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll BLOOOOW THIS DOOR DOWN!” I told her that if she didn’t take her fingers out from under the door then they would all just fall right off and she would no longer have fingers to be able to eat her precious M&Ms (Harsh? Maybe. Effective? Absolutely.) Those would be the very same M&Ms that I use to bribe her with if she would JUST ONCE not explain, in great detail, the method of how she wipes after SHE poops. “Mom! I have FOUR POOPIES this time! That’s so many! Now, I will wipe like this and……..” Ok, Ok, I’ll spare you the details. But nonetheless, it’s graphic and worth my weight in M&Ms. I suppose that pretty much qualifies as Confession #4, so I shall label it as such.

Speaking of my weight in M&Ms, maybe I could shave off a few bags or two if I would just provide myself with quick, healthy, filling grocery options for when I get home late at night. I rarely arrive home before 10:15 pm and the odds of me whipping up a grilled chicken or some salmon is slim to none. I mean none, the odds are just none. And I don’t have time during the day to adequately care for my love nuggets, work from home, AND prepare meals ahead of time. So this leads me to my last confession, the one I am most ashamed of. Last night when I got home from work, I scoured the refrigerator and pantry for what felt like 3 hours, and finally reached a verdict on what to consume for dinner. Confession #5: Last night, I knowingly made AND consumed a cheese sandwich. Not a delicious grilled cheese sandwich. Not a sandwich that happened to have some cheese on it. Not even a sandwich in terms of condiments, fancy expensive cheese and vegetation. I ate just TWO EFFING PIECES OF BREAD WITH TWO SLICES OF VELVEETA CHEESE loosely sliding around in the middle. That’s it. Two pieces of bread and two pieces of cheese. What… The mother effing what……WHO DOES THAT. Gross. I’ve hit a new low. I’m not even considered a worthwhile human anymore. I’ll understand if you just cut ties with me now.

Here’s to the frickin’ weekend and NO MORE CHEESE SANDWICHES.