Failed thundershowers, unicorn farts, and sweaty white pajamas

A five-photo narrative of a wonderfully average day

by Jonas Ellison

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again — I love thundershowers. ‘Showers’ is the key word there, because thunder without showers equals huge fires around these parts, and those suck horribly.

According to the forecast, we’re looking to get them all throughout the week.

I love opening the doors and windows as it pours and the thunder cracks. There’s something so cleansing about a good, strong afternoon thundershower.

Not only are thundershowers incredible when they’re happening, but when they pass, it’s so... Peaceful.

<Poetry attempt start> The trees and plants radiate with replenished goodness from the storm and the birds go to town on all the bugs and worms that are coaxed out of their hiding places by the moisture. </end poetry>

Plus, we need all the moisture we can get these days.

This was looking like it was shaping up to be a good one, but it only produced a few drops and a couple loud cracks.

I’m unimpressed. We’ll see what mother nature brings later in the week. Fingers crossed.

Am I talking about the weather? Geez, I must be getting old. Moving on…

The little girl human hates being restricted. Which means she hates the car.

She seems to be getting better. But if she’s in there for more than 20 minutes, she freaks out.

As maddening as it can be, I love how she carries zero emotional baggage at this age. She gets frustrated, and boom, she flies off the handle, fully expressing her emotions.

And like the thundershower we talked about earlier (like how I tied that in), when she’s done, she’s done. All smiles and unicorn farts. Good times.

But sometimes her internal thundershower (okay, I’ll stop) lasts for two hours or more. From San Francisco to Auburn. In traffic. And you have to pull over at a truck stop just to get her some milk to calm her down before either she vomits or you, as the driver, completely lose your mind and drive off a bridge, thus putting everyone out of their misery.

Wait? Where am I. Had a flashback there.

We’re just going to Raley’s, so it should be fine.

She freaked out in Raley’s.

About the whole not liking to be restrained thing — not only does that apply to the back seat, but to shopping carts and high chairs too.

Veteran parents always warned us about the mid-grocery store freakout. Well, they’re very much a reality these days.

She wants to grab everything. And when she can’t she throws her head back and screams in rage. I have zero tolerance for this. So, we left a half-full shopping cart sitting in the middle of the store and took off. I’ll go back when she goes to bed.

Oh, this, right here, is her viking pose. When she’s full, she stands on her highchair (which, if I had to bet, was probably recalled for safety issues in 1976 — but it looks nice and it’s antique), sticks out her gut, and stares at you like she’s mentally overtaking your soul.

Please don’t think she’s the spawn of Satan all the time. Honestly, she’s a joy most of the time. This age is hilarious to me. #nofilter

Last night was my first night training aikido. For almost 2 years. Right here, I’m a sweaty mess. My gi (the white pajama-type clothing we wear) is soaked. And it was a fairly light class.

It’s okay... Taking baby steps back into it.

About an hour before this photo, I had a horrifying experience. I forgot how to tie my belt. For about five minutes, I couldn’t, for the life of me, tie that thing the right way.

I’m pretty sure, if I was a Samurai in ancient Japan, and this happened to me, I’d have to commit seppuku right there on the spot. But I’m an American. I have no shame. And I hate pain.

I’m terrified of the dentist’s chair let alone disembowelment.

It came back to me, though.

When I got on the mat, I forgot about the whole rolling thing. That showed me where all the kinks and knots in my body were.

It’s crazy how many things did come back to me though. Overall, I was quite happy with my first night back. As usual, I left the dojo with more energy than when I walked in.

Love that feeling.

When it comes to putting the little girl human to bed, I, my friends, am champion. Alex has a hard time with it.

Now, I will say that when it comes to putting her back to sleep when she wakes up in the middle of the night — mom’s the winner. I tried it last night and failed miserably. Alex went in and put her right to sleep.

It’s funny how she assigns Alex and I roles like that. I’d love to see inside her mind and catch a glimpse of what’s going on in there.

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