The Mrs. Yoy Blog: The Quarantine Coronacles

Bedtime for Big E is a battle approximately one out of every three nights. Tonight I felt confident going into bedtime.  Dare I say cocky?  I had the ace in the hole.   Halloween , the most sacred holiday for a soon to be five year old.  And I was going to use it to my full advantage. I CAN'T SLEEP. I HAVE NIGHTMARES. LET ME DO SOMETHING FUN. The typical excuses rolled easily off Big E's tongue.  They are empty and meaningless to me now, as I hear them on a regular basis. I wasted no time pulling out the big guns. BIG E, GO TO BED RIGHT NOW OR WE ARE NOT GOING TRICK OR TREATING TOMORROW! He looked at me with his soulless eyes and declared that he didn't want to go trick or treating. I'm raising a robot child.

I'm harboring a criminal. Sunday's family outing included a torturous (for Big and Little E) swing through a bulk candy store. Unlimited, accessible candy all at eye level.   MOM, IS THIS HEAVEN? I wanted to answer yes, but I brushed off the suggestion.  Everyone knows that heaven has unlimited white wine and pizza and no one ever gets fat. I left the store with the Yoys in tow while Mr. Yoy lingered behind eyeballing the life-sized gummy bears.   I looked down at Big E.  Why was he chewing the cud?  I grabbed his face and took a look inside his sweet smelling mouth.  It was candy corn city in there. BIG E!  WHERE DID YOU GET THAT CANDY CORN?  DID YOU STEAL IT FROM THE STORE? Big E went on the defensive.  He swore to both Mr. Yoy and I that he didn't steal anything. A LADY PUT IT IN MY MOUTH! This is your strategy?  Pretend there is some creepy lady in the candy store force feeding candy corn to all...

Key to their development into refined adults, I play a wide spectrum of quality music for the Yoys to enjoy. During one of our many storied van rides about town, we were jamming out to a childhood favorite, New Kids On The Block (NKOTB, duh!) As prepubescent Joey belted out about the girl going away, Big E became very alarmed. WHY DOES SHE HAVE TO GO? Oh, Big E.  Is now the time to dive into the topic of dating and breaking up?  I think not. BECAUSE SHE DOES. That was my well-thought out response.  I've been a parent for close to five years.  My ability to creatively answer questions has all but dried up. IS IT BECAUSE SHE HAS TO GO EAT BREAKFAST? AND THEN DIE? Whaaaaaaaaat? ONLY IF SHE IS EATING HER BREAKFAST AT THE WAFFLE HOUSE. I'm 100.00000% sure this poster was hanging from my middle school bedroom walls.  And possibly high school.

I'm here to say, that doesn't have to be the case. I tagged along with Mr. Yoy last week to his first shareholder retreat in Las Vegas.  And not scuzzy, Bally's Las Vegas.  I'm talking the Bellagio.  He wasn't allowed to go without me. With minimal begging, we convinced my parents to fly up to Atlanta to watch the Yoys while we spent three days in Sin City. Mr. Yoy had boring work stuff during the day so I was on my own. But don't cry for me.  I treated myself big time. Below is a partial list of the amazing things accomplished during my vacation from being a responsible parent: 1)  I woke up at 6AM Vegas time and worked out.  Don't roll your eyes at me, I never get to work out without checking the clock and my cell phone for calls regarding my children.  And the gym was packed.  I'm stuck on Eastern Standard Time, what's your excuse? 2)  I spent four glorious hours in the Bellagio Spa.  Four hours cost me approximately 65%...

Last night I tucked Big E into bed at 7:30, right on schedule. I didn't see him snort like ten lines of coke before bedtime, but maybe he did. Over the next four hours, Big E devoured his learning books.  He was in his room, laid out on the floor, quietly working.  He wasn't disrupting my much needed mommy time, so I wasn't super upset. We watched the Falcons lose ANOTHER game and decided it was time for bed. Like the Energizer Bunny, Big E was still going. IF YOU DON'T SLEEP, YOU WON'T GROW. This nugget of info didn't bother him at all.  He's totally kosher with always being the shortest person within a 50 mile radius. YOU HAVE TO GET UP IN 7.5 HOURS FOR SCHOOL! He gave me a mildly annoying shoulder shrug.  But finally agreed to turn in for the night.  And that was the last we heard of him until the morning. To prove our point, Mr. Yoy and I woke Big E up at precisely 7AM with a rousing performance. RISE AND SHINE AND GIVE GOD YOUR GLORY, ...

Tomorrow is picture day at Big E's elementary school. A few weeks back, we received the photographer's flyer which included a choice of six backgrounds. All six options are losers.  Fireworks, creepy lockers, some weird Star Wars sh*t, and my personal favorite (and instigator of this entry), the Christmas Tree with all the trimmings. I mistakenly sat down with Big E tonight to go over his choices.  I was hoping when I revisited the flyer that a miracle had occurred and there was now a plain background available.  No such luck, friends. Big E saw the Christmas Tree and his eyes lit up. OOOOOH MOM, I WANT THE CHRISTMAS TREE!! I sighed.  Heavily.  We have touched on the whole Jewish thing in years past, but I knew this year would be a challenge.  Big E spent three glorious years in a bubble at a Jewish preschool.  Now he was at public school and probably one of a handful of Jewish children there. BIG E.  WE'RE JEWISH.  WE DON'T CE...