mothers and their children

Will they ever understand one another?

This week, being the basic bummer that it was, sent me straight to the internet. For comfort. For refuge. For sanctuary. For relief. I didn't get much of any of that.

I was on Facebook, rummaging through the photo albums of my children. I found this:

There's nothing upsetting about that, right? This is Karie and Danielle making No-Bake Cookies in our kitchen back in the good ol' days. The disturbing part is Taylor's comment on this photo - "Our kitchen walls were lame".

Lame?

Here's an example, from James this time. He was tagged in a photo that one of his friends took:

Is this what James always looks like at school? Should I withdraw him immediately, administer CPR, and homeschool him?

And then there's this. Mr. Dub uploaded some of Taylor's pics from Sweden to his Facebook page.

What is the meaning of this? Who made this, and why? Why did Taylor take a picture of it? Does it remind him of the lame-o kitchen walls of his childhood home?

I just want everyone to know that when this house was built back in 1995 fruity, flowery wallpaper was all the rage of the bourgeois. It was. I'll have you know it was considered so lovely and so perfect that the sales agent for our subdivision used to bring prospective buyers over to our house after it was finished as part of his sales routine. So they could see an example of the awesomeness.

Just so you know.