Wiggle when I Giggle

When I put my phone on vibrate, I wondered how much it vibrates? Cause, I don't need anything vibrating in my pocket that makes my belly wiggle that triggers my boobs to dance and me to say, "Helllooooooooooooooo!" as I answer. I just need it to vibrate and not sing "All the Single Ladies!" when my best friend calls or something equally embarrassing.  Like the 50+ Momma in Target the other day who's phone started screaming out "Muskrat Sally" a little louder than my kids were roaring... and roar they were, as we couldn't find anyone in the free cookie area of the bakery. You should see how fast Mama shops when it's a non-free cookie day at Target. Game On. I will break a sweat to get us through the aisles with everything we need, $20 in things we definitely don't need, and a bunch of items my kids have grabbed off the shelves or from another cart when we are in a tough squeeze in a busy aisle.

Phone on vibrate, kids in bed, and cold glass of water on the end table. CHECK. Mac powered up and ready for some Facebook, Yahoo, and Blogger time? CHECK.

Quiet time countdown is on.

As I got knee deep into a great new article, I heard a "Mooooom!" that could only be whined by Zoe for that long. That girl has a set of lungs on her.

"ZOE! Shhhhh! Xander is sleeping!" I stage-whispered up to her as she sat outside Xander's door and shouted down to me.

"Come get me," comes from the girl who has apparently climbed down from her tall bed, gotten into my make up stash, and was playing with the remote control in my room while she was supposed to be sleeping. Yep, I think she can handle coming down the stairs on her own. I tell her so and the arguement I knew would ensues.

Finally, she gives up and starts down the stairs, one by one. I turn on Diego and make a bed for her on the couch, and get back to mommy's time.

"This house is a train wreck!" comes from the makeshift bed.

"Wreck. Not train wreck."

"Nope, pretty sure it's a train wreck."

"Zo, just watch Diego. Mama needs a few minutes, okay?"

"Okay."

Seven seconds later, "Let's blow bubbles!"

"NO! You can go up and nap or you can watch a Diego. Either way, Mom needs a break."

"It hurts to break your leg. Nick told me."

"I'm sure it does."

The conversation continued until I closed the laptop, chugged my water - because God help us all if I leave a non-sippy-lidded cup out - and went into the kitchen.

"Let's make brownies! Or chocolate chip cookies!" shouted my not-at-all-sleepy side kick.

"Zo! I am just putting my cup away. We aren't baking today."

And then I looked at her. Her little eyes lost her spark and shoulders sagged just a little.

"Okay, come on. Let's get out the Play Doh!" came out of my mouth before I remembered that Play Doh  means absolute chaos and my mind completely on the task at hand. No multi-tasking when Play Doh is out and all over the kitchen.

She then started in on doing the Stanky Leg dance in her t-shirt and undies from her nap. I laughed and she then said, "Your belly just shook like a bowl full of jelly! Like Santa!"

Yep, baby, my figure is in vibrate mode for now.