Basically I am dressing her like she is a college guy as she is walking around like a little modern day George Jefferson.

The past few days would not be good for my mother of the year standing with Rachel.  Basically I am dressing her like she is a college guy as she is walking around like a little modern day George Jefferson.

First--I need to get Rachel some new leggings.  After awhile these little holes just develop in the knees and I really don't want to send her to school with holey pants.  Sometimes Rachel insists on wearing the pants if I don't catch the hole before she does.  She likes to go into school with a Band-Aid on the hole like her pants are wounded.  The problem is that she doesn't have 5 pairs of pants/leggings without holes so I should do a load of wash during the week.  But the past week was busy and I didn't get to it.  By Friday, I was going through the dirty laundry to find a pair of leggings sans holes, doing the sniff test.  Just like some college guy--smells just fine, must still be clean.  (Yes, I am making a generalization about college guys.)   While they could have smelled okay to me they were technically dirty, but at least didn't have holes in them.  Rachel had no idea but I knew.  I tried to reassure myself as I left her at school that her pants didn't smell too stinky.  (Note to self, "pick up leggings")

If dressing your child in dirty clothes was bad enough, then there is this.  When Rachel and I leave the house in the morning, she likes to listen to Thriftshop by Macklemore.  I don't know why, she just loves this song.  At first it was okay, when she just repeated "I gon' pop some tags" over and over.  But now it's not okay.  Even with the clean version, she has seemed to have picked up on the use of the word "honky".  When she said it, I almost swerved off the road.  I told her that this word wasn't okay and then tried to sell another song to listen too.  As soon as I say this..."Honky, honky, honky" is all she wants to say reminiscent of a good old Norman Lear sitcom.  While she says that she won't say it in school, I just see a miniature version of George Jefferson walking into younger pre-school.  All day at work, I kept imaging Rachel screaming the word honky in her preschool class and getting a call.  Or worse, the school mentioning the word choice to our sitter who was picking her up that night, and then her having to tell me later.  Bad, JCW, just bad--why did you let her listen to that song?  It is out of the rotation and back to Wheels on the Bus...no matter how much songs like this push me closer to the edge in the morning.  God, this is really bad...and I am totally going to blame Ching.

I would like to think that I will have my act together as a mother when both Laurel and Rachel are both more self sufficient....