...these would be the entries for this afternoon (though with this, you can start from the top and work your way to the bottom for the most recent):
12:02p: Super J is taking the girls sledding for the first time since they got their "boogie board" for Christmas. Love him!!
12:45p: I'm going to make cinnamon rolls for them so they can have them with hot chocolate when they get home. Have store bought bake 'em, ice 'em that will be just the thing.
1:00p: Into the oven they go. Have put them in my Pampered Chef clay circle baking dish thingy. 10 rolls. Yum.
1:18p: Have taken them out. They look golden brown and smell great. I am icing them.
1:20p: Am done icing.
1:21p: Oh! NO! They are only half-baked!!!! Seriously goopy under the tops and under the icing. CURSES!!!!
1:22p: Turn the oven back on and stick iced cinnamon rolls back in the oven. Set timer for 5 minutes.
1:27p: Discover that I didn't set the temperature right. CURSES! Leave them in for a few extra minutes.
1:28p: Family returns home. Take the cinnamon rolls out of oven. They are a little crunchy. Super J says they look great. I LURVES this man.
1:30p: Make hot chocolate for the girls.
1:32p: Almost spill hot chocolate for the girls, but recovered. No harm done. Put in rather stale marshmallows that are, in fact, leftovers from last winter. They will never know.
1:40p: Alls well.
1:40.30p: Spoke too soon. Miss E has spilled hot chocolate ALL OVER HERSELF AND MISS O. OH! NO! CURSES!!!!!! It is EVERYWHERE!!!!! Super J takes both girls upstairs to sponge them down. I start mopping up.
1:45p: Still mopping. Super J is still looking for clothes for Miss O. Note to self: must do laundry!
2:00p: Done cleaning. Everything somewhat back to normal. For now...
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Heavy Sigh
This really isn't a rant. It's more like a pity party. A personal pity party. Sorry to burden you with it...in fact, feel free to just stop reading. I'm venting and will be just fine and dandy in a bit. But for now, I'm enjoying tea and crumpets at my personal pity party. In fact, please don't even worry about commenting, Gentle Reader. I'm seriously not looking for empathy or sympathy or any type of kindness that you, amazing and thoughtful and wonderful Gentle Reader, might leave. I just need to talk it out. Just need to leach out the ugliness that is weighing on me. Just warning you.
So, today it is snowing here in Metropolis. Super J took Misses A and E to their art class and I got myself and Misses O and Q ready to go to a Stake Relief Society Enrichment Meeting (in other words, a large meeting for women who attend my church in various congregations within a specific geographical area). Thus, off the three of us go. The roads were slushy, but I left extra early and we got to the meeting just fine...they were still singing the first hymn.
They had advertised a "children's class" (ie:Nursery) at this thing, and Super J and I reasoned that Miss O would have a better time playing with the other kids and all the toys than being at the museum (again!) with Super J. We were both in complete agreement. Alas!!!! I experienced yet another mothering brain cloud as I did not realize that it was run by some of the very sweet husbands who came along so their wives could attend the main meeting. Uhoh. Red Flag #1. Also, because of the weather, some of Miss O's friends who might have been there were not. Uhoh. Red Flag #2. Can you say, STRANGER DANGER????? I can. I should have. But I didn't. ANYWAY. I got her settled playing at the little kitchenette thing, told them I'd be sitting in the back if they needed me and went to the meeting.
Approximately 15 minutes later, a sweet sister holding Miss O opens the door to obviously try to locate "the mother." Luckily, I am sitting literally on the last row, the one against the wall/partition thingy, and see them so I grab the baby (who's still in her car seat) and my purse and head out to the hallway to claim and calm Miss O, who has a tear streaked face, runny nose, red cheeks and is still experiencing wracking sobs. Quite a sight.
"Mmmmmmooooommmmmmmmmmmmmyyyyyyyyyy!!!! I want to go (hiccuping and sobbing) hooooooooome!!!!"
Oh, uh huh. I knew right then our Enrichment Experience was O.V.E.R.
So, here I am. Sitting in my "Sunday Best" (which, let's be honest, is about a half step up from Sunday Mediocre) in front of the computer. And I'm wondering, why on earth did I even attempt this. I mean, shouldn't I know better? Shouldn't there have been some warning in myself that this was a futile effort? Seriously, what was I thinking. I was strangely disappointed that I had to leave; not that any of the classes were things I really wanted to attend and who knows about the box lunches. But there was something about being there, with all those sisters who'd braved the gross winter weather. I was among them and then, before things even got started, I had to leave. An hour of prep time, approximately 28 minutes for travel to and from, for 17 minutes of meeting. Not the ideal ratio of effort expended for quality time, non?
So, I'm miffed and I want to be miffed at Miss O, but I cannot be. I'm miffed at myself, I guess. There's nothing I would have done differently, so it's actually quite useless to be even upset with myself. I just know I'd like a donut or something equally calorically unhelpful but emotionally soothing. But instead I'm blogging. We'll see how long I can hold out.
I think the thing that wears me out is that you hear all about filling the proverbial well, but even when I try to fill that stupid well, things don't work out. I mean, this is yet another thing on a long list of moments of this past year which causes me to feel like I'm being whaled upon; that I'm being testing and failing YET AGAIN. Holy smack, I do believe I have let myself get so spiritually drained that these little moments almost unhinge me.
In the long run, this doesn't matter. It really doesn't. The day is not over and I'm sure it will get better. I'm still wondering why on earth I felt I should go to this thing when it would seriously have been better and easier to stay home. I mean, OBVIOUSLY it would have been easier to stay home than get three of us girls, ages 38, 2 and almost 7 months dressed and prepared for a field trip in winter weather. But I didn't. Curses. This mothering gig really is hard sometimes.
On a happier note, at least I've showered for the day. Right? I mean, sometimes that doesn't happen and I'm having a great morning. So today things could still be all wrong AND I'd be filthy with nappy hair. So that's something.
Okay, guess I'll wrap up this pity party. Hope I haven't given you too many leftovers of bitter tea or stale cake.
Have a happier, better day, okay? And I'll work on that, too.
So, today it is snowing here in Metropolis. Super J took Misses A and E to their art class and I got myself and Misses O and Q ready to go to a Stake Relief Society Enrichment Meeting (in other words, a large meeting for women who attend my church in various congregations within a specific geographical area). Thus, off the three of us go. The roads were slushy, but I left extra early and we got to the meeting just fine...they were still singing the first hymn.
They had advertised a "children's class" (ie:Nursery) at this thing, and Super J and I reasoned that Miss O would have a better time playing with the other kids and all the toys than being at the museum (again!) with Super J. We were both in complete agreement. Alas!!!! I experienced yet another mothering brain cloud as I did not realize that it was run by some of the very sweet husbands who came along so their wives could attend the main meeting. Uhoh. Red Flag #1. Also, because of the weather, some of Miss O's friends who might have been there were not. Uhoh. Red Flag #2. Can you say, STRANGER DANGER????? I can. I should have. But I didn't. ANYWAY. I got her settled playing at the little kitchenette thing, told them I'd be sitting in the back if they needed me and went to the meeting.
Approximately 15 minutes later, a sweet sister holding Miss O opens the door to obviously try to locate "the mother." Luckily, I am sitting literally on the last row, the one against the wall/partition thingy, and see them so I grab the baby (who's still in her car seat) and my purse and head out to the hallway to claim and calm Miss O, who has a tear streaked face, runny nose, red cheeks and is still experiencing wracking sobs. Quite a sight.
"Mmmmmmooooommmmmmmmmmmmmyyyyyyyyyy!!!! I want to go (hiccuping and sobbing) hooooooooome!!!!"
Oh, uh huh. I knew right then our Enrichment Experience was O.V.E.R.
So, here I am. Sitting in my "Sunday Best" (which, let's be honest, is about a half step up from Sunday Mediocre) in front of the computer. And I'm wondering, why on earth did I even attempt this. I mean, shouldn't I know better? Shouldn't there have been some warning in myself that this was a futile effort? Seriously, what was I thinking. I was strangely disappointed that I had to leave; not that any of the classes were things I really wanted to attend and who knows about the box lunches. But there was something about being there, with all those sisters who'd braved the gross winter weather. I was among them and then, before things even got started, I had to leave. An hour of prep time, approximately 28 minutes for travel to and from, for 17 minutes of meeting. Not the ideal ratio of effort expended for quality time, non?
So, I'm miffed and I want to be miffed at Miss O, but I cannot be. I'm miffed at myself, I guess. There's nothing I would have done differently, so it's actually quite useless to be even upset with myself. I just know I'd like a donut or something equally calorically unhelpful but emotionally soothing. But instead I'm blogging. We'll see how long I can hold out.
I think the thing that wears me out is that you hear all about filling the proverbial well, but even when I try to fill that stupid well, things don't work out. I mean, this is yet another thing on a long list of moments of this past year which causes me to feel like I'm being whaled upon; that I'm being testing and failing YET AGAIN. Holy smack, I do believe I have let myself get so spiritually drained that these little moments almost unhinge me.
In the long run, this doesn't matter. It really doesn't. The day is not over and I'm sure it will get better. I'm still wondering why on earth I felt I should go to this thing when it would seriously have been better and easier to stay home. I mean, OBVIOUSLY it would have been easier to stay home than get three of us girls, ages 38, 2 and almost 7 months dressed and prepared for a field trip in winter weather. But I didn't. Curses. This mothering gig really is hard sometimes.
On a happier note, at least I've showered for the day. Right? I mean, sometimes that doesn't happen and I'm having a great morning. So today things could still be all wrong AND I'd be filthy with nappy hair. So that's something.
Okay, guess I'll wrap up this pity party. Hope I haven't given you too many leftovers of bitter tea or stale cake.
Have a happier, better day, okay? And I'll work on that, too.
Friday, February 27, 2009
With Lots of Love and Logic, Say Cheese!
Wow. I haven't blogged anything for three days. Whoops. This means that I didn't record anything about our crazy trip to Target on Wednesday for a family photo (and only spent $13.00-ish bucks for two pictures. Yay! Thanks crazy great coupon.)
Let's remedy that, shall we? Because it is a story that must be told. Alas, you'll have to check back in a week to 10 days to see that part of the story.
So. May I just start by saying that the girls did really well, even Miss Q, during the photo session. I think this was because it was a LITTLE SLICE OF THE HOT PLACE to get us to Target on time, so heaven was smiling on me to help me regroup my sanity. We, incredibly, were only 3 minutes late, which is amazing, considering Super J was power washing the fence (so that we can eventually re stain it and stain the replaced parts) until 10 minutes before departure (I kid not); the girls had been playing all afternoon, and I was trying to time everything so that we could get dressed in our nice clothes but that no one would decide to use markers or sidewalk chalk, etc. etc., as they sometimes are wont to do and get messy, so I started getting everyone dressed (besides me...I'd started earlier) half hour before departure time...which leads me to this little caveat I'd like to share. If you don't make the appointment yourself, be sure to double and triple check with the person who DID make the appointment so you are not thinking it's at 6:30 when, in reality, it's at 6:20. Because no one needs that unpleasant discovery in the car on the way to Target. I'm just saying.
ANYWAY!
Suffice to say, it was BEDLAM getting everyone ready and into the car, etc. etc. Here's an example of how things were going: Miss O (one can always count on Miss O to give us a good example of how to be frustrating...ah, but we love her still)...um...yeah, so Miss O is ready, tights are on, shoes are on, and I have just wet down her hair and brushed it. So far, so good.
Me: Go get in the car, everyone! Buckle to the best of your ability!
Miss O: I need my heavy coat! (ie: her baby pink colored warm winter coat with hood, which she insist on having zipped up, Velcro-ed together, and "hat ON!" every time we leave the house)
Me: You don't need your coat (seriously! It was 65 degrees out)!
Miss O: I need my heavy coat! I need my heavy coat! I need my heavy coat! (she'll repeat until someone responds. Drives me to the edge, it does)
Me: (in exasperated tone) You don't need your heavy coat! It's in the back of the Red Rocket (which is true. It was. Because it was 65 degrees out and we'd tossed it back there)
Miss O: It's in the Red Rocket?
Me: Yes.
Miss O: Ohhhh.
She departs, only to return with her lighter blue wool sweater coat.
Miss O: I need this coat! I need this coat!
Me: (sigh.) Okay, whatever.
Miss O: Zip it up!!! (because, after all this time working with her pink heavy coat and her neon green windbreaker, I don't know that I'm to zip up coats, I guess)
I zip up the coat.
Me: Go get in the car and buckle up.
Miss O: (happily) Okay.
Minutes pass.
We are finally ready to get the baby (ie: last passenger) into the car. I see Miss O is NOT in the car, but standing and smiling broadly at me in her blue wool sweater coat wearing an off white stocking cap.
Miss O: I have my hat on!
Me: Clearly.
I try to take the hat off.
Screaming and wailing begins. Miss O shoves the hat I'd taken off and placed on table back on head. I try to think of my love and logic parenting book and what they, oh infinitely wiser parents, would do and I let her leave her hat on and then we head out to Target, only a little on the frazzled side of things.
It's only once we get to Target and remove her coat and hat that I realize something. I realize that I'd forgotten that I'd wet her hair down before this whole thing had begun. I am able to realize this because Miss O has a RAGING case of Hat Head Hair, which is now dried into hat head hair place.
I brought a brush and feverishly try to fix it. Hmmmm. It only makes it FRIZZY hat head hair.
Oh well.
It turns out that frizzy hat head hair Miss O is the least of my worries about the pictures, upon previewing them. Actually, the two pictures we selected turned out pretty good...except that my bosom in the one Super J likes best is like a poorly hung shelf on the wall, my shirt somehow caught under said bosom, which makes for a indisputable line across my chest like a very very thin sash, as it is also sloping in a diagonal line in the most unattractive manner. Does it matter that Super J and I are holding Miss Q and so they are shifted because of that? No. It doesn't matter, at least not to me. It is glaring to me. Glaring and unsightly. But, heck, we got it anyway.
So, when I see the picture, these are the things I see: frizzy hat head hair and sloping bosom shelf line.
And when get the pictures and I post them, you'll have to let me know what YOU see.
Silver lining: at least we got a family picture, and that's saying something.
Let's remedy that, shall we? Because it is a story that must be told. Alas, you'll have to check back in a week to 10 days to see that part of the story.
So. May I just start by saying that the girls did really well, even Miss Q, during the photo session. I think this was because it was a LITTLE SLICE OF THE HOT PLACE to get us to Target on time, so heaven was smiling on me to help me regroup my sanity. We, incredibly, were only 3 minutes late, which is amazing, considering Super J was power washing the fence (so that we can eventually re stain it and stain the replaced parts) until 10 minutes before departure (I kid not); the girls had been playing all afternoon, and I was trying to time everything so that we could get dressed in our nice clothes but that no one would decide to use markers or sidewalk chalk, etc. etc., as they sometimes are wont to do and get messy, so I started getting everyone dressed (besides me...I'd started earlier) half hour before departure time...which leads me to this little caveat I'd like to share. If you don't make the appointment yourself, be sure to double and triple check with the person who DID make the appointment so you are not thinking it's at 6:30 when, in reality, it's at 6:20. Because no one needs that unpleasant discovery in the car on the way to Target. I'm just saying.
ANYWAY!
Suffice to say, it was BEDLAM getting everyone ready and into the car, etc. etc. Here's an example of how things were going: Miss O (one can always count on Miss O to give us a good example of how to be frustrating...ah, but we love her still)...um...yeah, so Miss O is ready, tights are on, shoes are on, and I have just wet down her hair and brushed it. So far, so good.
Me: Go get in the car, everyone! Buckle to the best of your ability!
Miss O: I need my heavy coat! (ie: her baby pink colored warm winter coat with hood, which she insist on having zipped up, Velcro-ed together, and "hat ON!" every time we leave the house)
Me: You don't need your coat (seriously! It was 65 degrees out)!
Miss O: I need my heavy coat! I need my heavy coat! I need my heavy coat! (she'll repeat until someone responds. Drives me to the edge, it does)
Me: (in exasperated tone) You don't need your heavy coat! It's in the back of the Red Rocket (which is true. It was. Because it was 65 degrees out and we'd tossed it back there)
Miss O: It's in the Red Rocket?
Me: Yes.
Miss O: Ohhhh.
She departs, only to return with her lighter blue wool sweater coat.
Miss O: I need this coat! I need this coat!
Me: (sigh.) Okay, whatever.
Miss O: Zip it up!!! (because, after all this time working with her pink heavy coat and her neon green windbreaker, I don't know that I'm to zip up coats, I guess)
I zip up the coat.
Me: Go get in the car and buckle up.
Miss O: (happily) Okay.
Minutes pass.
We are finally ready to get the baby (ie: last passenger) into the car. I see Miss O is NOT in the car, but standing and smiling broadly at me in her blue wool sweater coat wearing an off white stocking cap.
Miss O: I have my hat on!
Me: Clearly.
I try to take the hat off.
Screaming and wailing begins. Miss O shoves the hat I'd taken off and placed on table back on head. I try to think of my love and logic parenting book and what they, oh infinitely wiser parents, would do and I let her leave her hat on and then we head out to Target, only a little on the frazzled side of things.
It's only once we get to Target and remove her coat and hat that I realize something. I realize that I'd forgotten that I'd wet her hair down before this whole thing had begun. I am able to realize this because Miss O has a RAGING case of Hat Head Hair, which is now dried into hat head hair place.
I brought a brush and feverishly try to fix it. Hmmmm. It only makes it FRIZZY hat head hair.
Oh well.
It turns out that frizzy hat head hair Miss O is the least of my worries about the pictures, upon previewing them. Actually, the two pictures we selected turned out pretty good...except that my bosom in the one Super J likes best is like a poorly hung shelf on the wall, my shirt somehow caught under said bosom, which makes for a indisputable line across my chest like a very very thin sash, as it is also sloping in a diagonal line in the most unattractive manner. Does it matter that Super J and I are holding Miss Q and so they are shifted because of that? No. It doesn't matter, at least not to me. It is glaring to me. Glaring and unsightly. But, heck, we got it anyway.
So, when I see the picture, these are the things I see: frizzy hat head hair and sloping bosom shelf line.
And when get the pictures and I post them, you'll have to let me know what YOU see.
Silver lining: at least we got a family picture, and that's saying something.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
The Tough Stuff
Poor Miss O. I'm not even joking.
Ever since her peri-anal strep incident a few weeks ago, which made her rear totally tender and sore, going #2 has not been the same. In fact, I think it was more painful and bothersome that we knew because she's developed a raging case of constipation or something like that. I mean, she goes probably once a day or every other day, but still.
Here's what happens. For example, last night she needed to go. So, she grunted and groaned and...did nothing. So she gave up. Then, this morning, I caught her with "the look" in Misses A& E's room and I asked her if she wanted me to stay with her or give her some space (she chose the latter, and I don't blame her. I think we all prefer to "take care of business" by ourselves). So, probably fifteen minutes later, she came downstairs with this horrific stink and hard mass in her diaper. It hurts, she tells me. I totally believe her, especially when we investigate what she's expelled. Holy cow. That'd hurt me.
I think some of it is self induced, which furthers the unfortunate cycle. I'm also partly to blame because I haven't been keeping as good an eye on her diet as I need to, but I've been changing that lo these past few days. I was so proud of her for going today and rewarded her with M&M's (which Super J suggested we use to bribe her to going...it worked today), but this is something that is starting to become more regular and I'd really like to stop it before it becomes more of a problem.
I've looked it up and know what I need to do: more fiber, more fluids, more exercise. But I'm wondering if anyone has any other ideas for an incredibly picky eater (meaning, she won't touch vegetables or fruit, though sometimes she'll drink a smoothie or eat a yogurt, and she prefers to stick with things like Eggo waffles --though I'm going to get her the wheat kind and see if she'll eat them--, Mickey Mouse shaped chicken nuggets from Costco--they're supposed to have whole grain in them! Alas!!!--and whatever I can get her to eat in the evening)??? Any suggestions, Gentle Reader?
Ever since her peri-anal strep incident a few weeks ago, which made her rear totally tender and sore, going #2 has not been the same. In fact, I think it was more painful and bothersome that we knew because she's developed a raging case of constipation or something like that. I mean, she goes probably once a day or every other day, but still.
Here's what happens. For example, last night she needed to go. So, she grunted and groaned and...did nothing. So she gave up. Then, this morning, I caught her with "the look" in Misses A& E's room and I asked her if she wanted me to stay with her or give her some space (she chose the latter, and I don't blame her. I think we all prefer to "take care of business" by ourselves). So, probably fifteen minutes later, she came downstairs with this horrific stink and hard mass in her diaper. It hurts, she tells me. I totally believe her, especially when we investigate what she's expelled. Holy cow. That'd hurt me.
I think some of it is self induced, which furthers the unfortunate cycle. I'm also partly to blame because I haven't been keeping as good an eye on her diet as I need to, but I've been changing that lo these past few days. I was so proud of her for going today and rewarded her with M&M's (which Super J suggested we use to bribe her to going...it worked today), but this is something that is starting to become more regular and I'd really like to stop it before it becomes more of a problem.
I've looked it up and know what I need to do: more fiber, more fluids, more exercise. But I'm wondering if anyone has any other ideas for an incredibly picky eater (meaning, she won't touch vegetables or fruit, though sometimes she'll drink a smoothie or eat a yogurt, and she prefers to stick with things like Eggo waffles --though I'm going to get her the wheat kind and see if she'll eat them--, Mickey Mouse shaped chicken nuggets from Costco--they're supposed to have whole grain in them! Alas!!!--and whatever I can get her to eat in the evening)??? Any suggestions, Gentle Reader?
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Broken Tooth Update
Went to the dentist today and basically got a temporary putty filling, but will go back next Tuesday for the first stage of getting a crown (sigh) and then I'll have to go back 2 weeks after that for the permanent crown (sigh, again).
The anxiety was pretty minimal (keep in mind I said many a prayer). I was plenty freaked out waiting to see what was going on, but all the dentist did was look in my mouth using his mirror thingy and then one of his assistants packed it with the putty and then I was pretty much done.
Guess what the cost is of a crown these days????? Oh, a little over $800 dollars, but that's not counting the cost of the "build-up" they have to do of the tooth and the scraping of the old filling and a few other things (it all adds up to just under 1K). Thank goodness we have some dental insurance that will help, but it still stings, big time.
That being said, the dentist was pleasantly surprised that I had come in as soon as I had and told me that he gets patients who wait until they can wait no more. I just didn't want to chip off any more of my tooth.
In any case, today wasn't bad. I was much relieved.
The anxiety was pretty minimal (keep in mind I said many a prayer). I was plenty freaked out waiting to see what was going on, but all the dentist did was look in my mouth using his mirror thingy and then one of his assistants packed it with the putty and then I was pretty much done.
Guess what the cost is of a crown these days????? Oh, a little over $800 dollars, but that's not counting the cost of the "build-up" they have to do of the tooth and the scraping of the old filling and a few other things (it all adds up to just under 1K). Thank goodness we have some dental insurance that will help, but it still stings, big time.
That being said, the dentist was pleasantly surprised that I had come in as soon as I had and told me that he gets patients who wait until they can wait no more. I just didn't want to chip off any more of my tooth.
In any case, today wasn't bad. I was much relieved.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Pulling Faces
So, last night when our two youngest would not go to sleep, Super J tried to distract Miss O (who likes to try to help ME put Miss Q to sleep, which often has the complete opposite effect) with some of the doo-dads on his new work computer (which is a Mac, which Super J loves. I mean, LURVES!!! He really really likes it, did I mention that?).
Anyway, it has this application where you can take pictures of yourself with its built in camera, so I eventually joined the fun.
But Super J kept making faces.
And more faces...
After his deranged serial killer look, I decided to try one, too:
(look at poor Miss Q...she was so tired, she was UN.AMUSED. at all this mayhem)
And then things just got...well...really scary for some of us (*ahem*).
Guess which picture was Super J's favorite? Yep.
Anyway, it has this application where you can take pictures of yourself with its built in camera, so I eventually joined the fun.
But Super J kept making faces.
And more faces...
After his deranged serial killer look, I decided to try one, too:
(look at poor Miss Q...she was so tired, she was UN.AMUSED. at all this mayhem)And then things just got...well...really scary for some of us (*ahem*).
Guess which picture was Super J's favorite? Yep.
Twitter...
Let's just be quick about this: I do NOT have a Twitter Account. Heaven knows, seriously, that I don't need one more thing to continue the thin spreading of my finite time.
However, I do like the idea that you are concise, offering a quick line or two updating yourself. I think it's so appealing because I often think like that (clearly, left to my own devices, I don't WRITE like that). Still. Because I just can't handle the pressure of yet another techno outlet, I'll just share some of my twittering thoughts here at the Zoo:
**Today--huge piles of laundry must be done before the foul stink of the unclean takes over house.
**For the LOVE OF PANCAKES! I do not think I can put bleach in my washing machine without splashing some on me. I will soon have no bleach splattered clothes. SERIOUSLY! ARGH.
**My broken tooth is more of a pain to my tongue which feels cut to shreds than to any tooth root issue, and I'm just about ready to do whatever it takes to stop that annoying pain. The silver lining, mayhaps?
**I really really really enjoy my friends because they keep me grounded and sane; plus, I am sure they have saved my kids from THE EEEVIL MOTHER WITHIN on more than one occasion.
**I am constantly shocked at how disheveled the house can get within a few hours time, especially on the weekends.
**Please, please Miss Q. Cut those darn teeth already so we both can get some sleep one of these nights. PLEASE.
**I often feel put out on Mondays (probably due to lack of sleep) when I am faced with the house after a weekend because there is not a single room left unturned and I think to myself, How did this happen????
**The Oscars last night???? I didn't watch all of it, but was disappointed with what I saw. I so used to love movies and the Oscars. What happened to them and/or me?
**Have had the terrible realization that I have been taking dishes out of the dishwasher that have only been rinsed off, NOT run through the dishwasher cycle. Oh heavens.
**Am realizing that my blogging twitter is just as distracting as either blogging or twittering, as seen with the dishes episode above. Will just post this now in effort to focus on tasks at hand: Mount Doom of Laundry; Filth Abyss aka: the house; and, oh yeah, my kids.
However, I do like the idea that you are concise, offering a quick line or two updating yourself. I think it's so appealing because I often think like that (clearly, left to my own devices, I don't WRITE like that). Still. Because I just can't handle the pressure of yet another techno outlet, I'll just share some of my twittering thoughts here at the Zoo:
**Today--huge piles of laundry must be done before the foul stink of the unclean takes over house.
**For the LOVE OF PANCAKES! I do not think I can put bleach in my washing machine without splashing some on me. I will soon have no bleach splattered clothes. SERIOUSLY! ARGH.
**My broken tooth is more of a pain to my tongue which feels cut to shreds than to any tooth root issue, and I'm just about ready to do whatever it takes to stop that annoying pain. The silver lining, mayhaps?
**I really really really enjoy my friends because they keep me grounded and sane; plus, I am sure they have saved my kids from THE EEEVIL MOTHER WITHIN on more than one occasion.
**I am constantly shocked at how disheveled the house can get within a few hours time, especially on the weekends.
**Please, please Miss Q. Cut those darn teeth already so we both can get some sleep one of these nights. PLEASE.
**I often feel put out on Mondays (probably due to lack of sleep) when I am faced with the house after a weekend because there is not a single room left unturned and I think to myself, How did this happen????
**The Oscars last night???? I didn't watch all of it, but was disappointed with what I saw. I so used to love movies and the Oscars. What happened to them and/or me?
**Have had the terrible realization that I have been taking dishes out of the dishwasher that have only been rinsed off, NOT run through the dishwasher cycle. Oh heavens.
**Am realizing that my blogging twitter is just as distracting as either blogging or twittering, as seen with the dishes episode above. Will just post this now in effort to focus on tasks at hand: Mount Doom of Laundry; Filth Abyss aka: the house; and, oh yeah, my kids.
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