The Mrs. Yoy Blog: The Quarantine Coronacles

Instead of therapy and violence, I'm going to express my feelings in a healthy way and write them out of me.  Lucky for you, you have found your way to this page. Prepare to be enlightened. For those of you who know me in real life, you are blessed.  You know that I have a pretty even-keeled personality.  My patience runs deep and it takes some big-time bullsh*t to really get my blood boiling. And my blood is boiling.  You see, Mr. Yoy and I just dropped a pretty penny on new construction in an area that doesn't come cheap.   Building a home tests your faith in humans.  It tests your marriage.  It tests your will to live. Our builder, Ashton Woods, is "America's Trusted Builder".  That's their motto.  It's on everything.  I'm pretty sure they didn't do a survey around my neighborhood, because trust isn't the first word the Yoys and the majority of our neighbors would use to describe their dealings with Ashton Woods. ...

Last week we observed "fall" break.  For the record, this break technically began during summer which is why I'm using quotes. Yom Kippur and our trip to NJ chewed up two days of it.  On Thursday, I took the boys up to the Atlanta Botanical Gardens in Gainesville (GA) to check out the new Lego exhibit. It was an hour drive and well worth the trip for you locals looking for something different to do with your little people. A few interesting things to note during our visit to the gardens: The gardens set up Lego building stations out in the garden.  I was able to relax on a bench, watch my kids go nuts on some Legos, and enjoy the serenity of the garden. About 30 minutes into playing, another mom rolled up with four kids.  She was definitly emitting the granola/crunchy vibe. We started chit chatting about the exhibit, weather, etc. SO DO YOU ALSO HOMESCHOOL? I tried to hide it, but my eyes bulged out of my head.  Do I look like I have the patience...

Yesterday was Yom Kippur.  It is the holiest day of the year for the Jewish people. We fasted from sundown on Tuesday night to sundown-ish on Wednesday.  The fast is intended to help you focus on all of your wrongdoings over the past year and how to make yourself a better human in the coming year. I was going to list all of my sins, but fortunately for me, this platform has a word limit. We dragged the boys to Synagogue, where I had signed them up for babysitting, while Mr. Yoy and I prayed and reflected.  Parenting is hard, parenting while hungry is worthy of sainthood.  I had to pack lunches for the boys because they are not required to fast until they are bar mitzvahed. Big E decided at the last minute that he would have nothing to do with something with the word "baby" in it.  He was coming to sit in services with us for close to three hours.  We exchanged knowing glances with the babysitting staff. WE'LL BE BACK IN LIKE FIVE MINUTES.  HA...

Big E has been given the opportunity to check books out of his school library the past few weeks. For whatever reason, instead of settling on my preferred type of read, chick lit, he is all in on a series of books that focus on energy. We've read about fossil fuels, renewable resources, and the latest (and my person favorite) nuclear power. The thing that makes these books fantastic bedtime material is that they are boring as sh*t.  I'm basically half dead by the time I make it through the 20 or so pages.  But not Big E.  He is FASCINATED. And a book about nuclear power is not worth reading without mentioning the dangerous side effects of disposing of the waste and the time our country dropped a couple of these suckers on Japan and killed hundreds of thousands of people. Big E was very concerned about the nuclear power plants.  He insisted that I google where the closest ones to our home were.  They're in SE Georgia, thank goodness.  Because if...

The clock is loudly ticking on my 30s. To distract myself from the dirty F word, no the other one, I've been throwing myself into unpacking and settling into our new home. It's not that I'm sad to say goodbye to my thirties, it's just forty always seemed so old to me. Why are you rambling about this, you may ask. This evening, as I rinsed away the mom grime in the shower, my phone alerted me to a new text message. After my shower, I picked up my phone. I spent the next five minutes trying to remember meeting Doris.  And I just couldn't.  Did I forget meeting Doris and distributing my number to her? As a 39.5 year old, am I now old enough to have friends named Doris?  Maybe it's the lady from Everybody Loves Raymond?  I really just can't recall. In the end, I decided it was a wrong number and did what any upstanding human would do.  I ignored it.

Friday morning came fast and early for the Yoys. My cousins arrived Thursday night with their kids, and this sent Big E into a tizzy.  He was unable to settle down until after eleven.  Thank goodness Little E fell asleep before their arrival and slept through all the excitement. I was able to get the Yoys dressed for school ahead of our normal sprinting-to-the-bus-stop timeline.  Big E was determined to accidentally wake up his cousins so he could play with him.  He was singing in the hallway some made up bulls*t song about farts and umbrellas. I couldn't SHHHHHH and threaten him enough.  Only later did I learn that all my SHHHHHHHH was very audible through the bedroom walls. As I herded the boys into the bathroom to brush their teeth, I circled back into Big E's bedroom to turn off his light.  And that's when I saw Poodle Yoy. Squatting. Pooping on his bedroom floor. POODLE YOY! I screamed at her.  I checked the floor and I had interrupted...