The Mrs. Yoy Blog: The Quarantine Coronacles

Hot on the heels of my Prada blog, I present to you another first world problem. Last night our air conditioning unit went on strike. We have one unit with three different zones. Zones one and three kept right on plugging, which sounds great, but zone two is responsible for the area we sleep in. WE'LL ALL BE DEAD BY MIDNIGHT. - Big E's Morbid Prediction In summary: we burst into flames as we lay restless in our beds, dreaming of popsicles, Alaska, and the Costco freezer room. Luckily for us, today we had scheduled a work day with our builder to come by and fix some things. We just added HVAC to the list. In preparation for the visit with the HVAC guy, I had to turn off the entire unit. His time window was between 1-6 and this gave me plenty of time to begin perspiring. Although we are knocking on September's door, Atlanta's 90 degree days have been merciless. I told our builder rep that I had to run to the bus stop around three, but I was hoping the guy woul

Friday, Mr. Yoy and I ventured up to Boston to see Kenny Chesney, Miranda Lambert, Sam Hunt, and Old Dominion play at Gillette Stadium. I was beyond excited as I've been waiting to see my boyfriend, Sam Hunt, perform live for months and months. After a frustrating Uber ride out to the Stadium (and we thought Atlanta traffic was bad), we hopped out of the car and began to weave our way through Patriot's Place (basically an outdoor mall). As we wandered around looking for the Will Call window, a security officer approached us with clear plastic bags and offered us one. YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO BRING YOUR PURSE IN, MA'AM. YOU'LL HAVE TO LEAVE IT IN YOUR CAR. And then the memories flooded back...FALCONS GAME. COLD AS HELL. WALKING BACK TO CAR BECAUSE PURSE DIDN'T FIT NFL REQUIREMENTS OF BEING CLEAR OR THE SIZE OF A SUPER-PLUS TAMPON. I began to panic, as we had no car. And I had a Prada, my go-to, nylon, cross body bag that is basically melded to my body.

Back in 2013, I purchased two stuffed owls from the dollar bins at Target. The boys' new school mascot was an owl and this was a perfect way to introduce them to it. Initally, as with all toys (and the plot to Toy Story), the owls were fan favorites. Until something newer and softer and shinier came along. The owls were relegated to the stuffed animal shelf, where fun goes to die. During the move, only one owl was unpacked. It was moved to the top of a book shelf with Mickey and Clifford where it lived until today. What happened today you ask? Little E rediscovered owl. They had a lovely afternoon together playing and cuddling and rekindling their relationship. Approximately 52 seconds before I took the boys upstairs to start bedtime, this happened: Hootie went and lost his damn foot! My scheduled serene bedtime was replaced with a fury that matched the storms swirling outside. IS THAT RAIN OR LITTLE E'S TEARS? In my panic, I told Little

Last week we hit up the dentist for the Yoy's cleanings. Big E got an x-ray done to see how things were progressing in his mouth. He's lost a bunch of teeth, but currently there are two giant chiclets spread way apart up top that are screaming ORTHODONTIST! NOW, PLEASE! I am expecting that my kids' teeth have a date with destiny. And by destiny, I mean long, drawn out years shuttling them to and from the orthodontist every four weeks. I was a braces wearer from 2nd-8th grade. By the grace of g-d, I didn't have to enter high school with metal train tracks across my face. Everything is fixed now, but my teeth were so gnarly that my doctor used me as a case study for a class he taught at a nearby university. Dr. H looked at Big E's x-rays and instead of the "looks good, see you in six months," I got the tooth BOMB dropped on me. 1) Big E's upper left lateral tooth hasn't broken through yet, but it will be coming in completely sidew

Back to school has come and gone. In a show of solidarity with all the other moms, who silently suffered through summer, I threw an enormous wine and school bus party and invited all my friends to decompress from what they had just survived.  We hung around all day drinking and watching 80s movies and eating raw cookie dough out of the Costco-sized tub. The best five pounds I've ever earned. Wait. That was all just a DREAM? DANG! In real life, I tried my best to get the Yoys adjusted to their new teachers and schedules and such. That included eliminating bed time that had slowly crept up to 10PM...11PM... Who cares, I'm going to sleep. Big E rolled right into second grade like he owned the place. His transition was seamless. Little E rolled right into a wall. As he lay crying on the floor because I asked him to write his name on the top of his half page of homework. WHY DO I HAVE TO WRITE MY NAME ON EVERYTHING? I KNOW WHAT MY NAME IS! WHY IS MY