The Mrs. Yoy Blog: The Quarantine Coronacles

Selling your house is mad stressful.  It makes you do completely illogical things like selling a bunch of your sh*t on Craig's List. Craig's List is like the Wild West.  There are no laws.  No manners.  No expectation of decency.  It's basically rush hour on 285.  Every man for himself. And I sold a ton of stuff.  I encountered all sorts of humans.  There were a few that showed up at the agreed upon time with the agreed upon amount, although that was rare.  Mostly it was a bunch of no shows.   Below is a summary of my top three transactions, in no particular order. 1) Gucci Diaper Bag This was a gift from my parents when I was pregnant with Big E.  Of course I would have a Gucci Diaper Bag.  I may live in Atlanta, but I'm a Boca girl at heart. Anyway, I wore this thing out.  I carried it every day for five years.  The corners are pilled.  The top has some wear.  If I amortized the cost of the bag across the usage, it was basically free.  At least, th

Making it to the morning bus stop is a perfectly orchestrated process. There are so many moving pieces. Will the bus be five minutes early today? Will the bus be twenty minutes late today? Will the Yoys refuse to leave their warm beds? Will I sleep through my alarm? Will Little E have a bathroom emergency? It truly is a miracle that they make it on the bus most mornings.  So what if they are inhaling their breakfasts as they sprint down hill to the stop? We HAVE missed the bus one or twice.  But only because the bus showed up way earlier than normal.  We didn't even realize we had missed it until I called a friend later down the line to see if her son had been picked up. This morning we took a little longer to get ready.  Big E had to get dressed up in his graduation outfit.  I was busy filing out a thank you note for the bus driver, ironically. We were heading out the door when our door bell rang.  It was my neighbor telling us the bus was there.  I yelled for

Thirty nine children stood up when their names were called, walked up on stage, received their Pre-K diploma, and shook the principal's hand. One child did not. And I'm sure you already know that the one child was my very own, Little E. Don't get me wrong, he was super amped about all the attention he was receiving.  He just decided to add an impromptu victory lap to the rites of graduation. Little E stood up when his name was called.  He smiled his giant, cheesy grin, and made a bee-line towards Mr. Yoy and I as we sat frozen, mortified in the audience.  Oh lord, what was about to transpire? He hugged Mr. Yoy.  He hugged me.  Then he left our row of seats and made his way to the side of the gymnasium where his brother was "videoing" the graduation.  I put video in quotes because for the second year in a row, I brought an uncharged, hanging by a thread of battery, video camera to Pre-K graduation. Luckily, Big E didn't know that and he was completely

This week I'll be attending back-to-back graduation ceremonies for Little E and Big E, Pre-K and K, respectively. I will be attempting the world record for the most crying in a public school. I'm sad to leave my school.  I'm proud of my kids for not being expelled. Well, yet, anyway.  It was touch and go for awhile, but Big E finally pulled up that Calculus grade. And thanks to Facebook's new feature, I am greeted daily with pictures of the Yoys when they were babies.  Back when they smelled so good I had to restrain myself from licking their sweet faces.  Before they sass mouthed me and broke my spirit on a daily basis.  Seeing their baby pictures regularly really hits home. The Yoys are no longer little boys. They are getting older and less dependent on me every day.  Well, at least Big E is.  I have a feeling Little E will be living with me forever.  I'll still be spoon feeding him cottage cheese and rubbing his back when he is forty.  Don't judge.

My kids are works in progress.  Some days I get "pleases" and "thank-yous" and possibly even an elusive "yes ma'am!" Other days it's like I've got Gordon Ramsey living with me and he is just barking orders at me.  And I am too frightened to do anything but obey. THIS MAC-N-CHEESE IS BURNT! This week, we've been visited twice by a little boy who rides the bus with the Yoys.  He is a year or two older than Big E, but they play well together. And this kid brings the manners. He uses please without being prompted.  He makes eye contact when he speaks to me.  He took his snack bowl and walked it to the sink AND rinsed it out. I about fainted. He even chimes in when Big E is not behaving. BIG E, YOU BETTER LISTEN TO YOUR MOM! He is such a pleasure to have over. And it gets my mind cranking. 1) Is this how Big E behaves when I'm not around and he is at a friend's house? Or is he a total terror?  Just ripping open the

I've got three weeks until we move out of our home and begin the summer of the Nomad. The level of procrastination happening here has soared to new heights.  It doesn't help that Mr. Yoy skipped town for a week, so I don't really have anyone at home to judge me.  Except maybe Poodle Yoy. I signed up for a three hour field day shift at Big E's school tomorrow morning just to avoid bubble wrapping not one, but two sets, of our Grandma's China. What's so bad about field day you may wonder? On the surface, nothing.  Except both my offspring will be out there and they are major sweaters.  My kids sweat in the winter.  In the cooler.  At Costco.  So you can only imagine what will go down on an 80 degree day.  They will be rubbing their sweaty, dirty, sticky hands and faces all over me.  Plus, Little E will probably attach himself to my leg and I'll have to walk around all morning like I've got some sort of awkward leg brace on. The boys tried to help