Does my outfit for tomorrow need to be ironed? I'll have all morning tomorrow after the kids are at school. But I should probably just take it out and check it, just in case there's some sort of Unforseen Outfit Emergency that I'm going to have to deal with, because I am not going shopping for interview clothes the same day as the interview. Phew, clothes look good. Which shoes? These ones? No, they're scuffed. These? That's not quite the same black. (God, I envy men their one or two pair of dress shoes.) These? Too strappy. These? Too clunky. Hello, where did these come from? These are...
Training wheels: Discarded. Bicycle: Still a slave to gravity. Temperature: Over 90 when we concluded that we'd had enough riding for today. Air conditioning: Cranked. Reader Rabbit 2nd Grade: Played for an hour (then I peeled the child off the computer). My super-special scrambled eggs: Devoured for lunch to gleeful proclamations about how much Monkey hates them and it's great he's not home. Coupons: Clipped and organized. Groceries: Purchased, loaded, put away. Savings between coupons and store rewards: $32.73. I rock. Four fresh cases of Diet Coke With Lime: Purchased at $2.22 each and...
The Atomic Fireballs are the fault of Dollar Tree. I just went in there for Antibacterial Hand Gel (the last item on Chickadee's school list), honest. Because I live under a rock, I hadn't heard of the Texas woman whose kid got snatched from the car. I regularly leave my kids buckling in the car while I return my shopping cart, and I am now writhing in paroxysms of guilt. Thank you. My friend brought me raspberry chocolate chip ice cream tonight. I didn't know I liked raspberry chocolate chip ice cream, but where has this raspberry chocolate chip ice cream been all my life? And also, could...
... I just can't wait to get back on the road again.... Actually, I could wait. A long while. If my folks decided to pick up their house and move it just down the road from mine, instead of being so selfish and inconvenient as to live in another state, that would be fine with me. But in the current arrangement, all good things must come to an end and I must reload my car and spend my day tomorrow traversing three (small) states before making it home to my own bed. I spent some time tonight loading the car and marvelling at the sheer magnitude of stuff that we brought and have accumulated...
We went to see a regional theatre production of "Cats" today. I have relinquished my title of The Only Person On The Planet Who Has Never Seen Cats. I am still, however, proud holder of the Only Theatre Major On The Planet Who Hadn't Seen Cats During The Formative Years title. It was a lot of fun. The children would've enjoyed it more, I think, if they hadn't been sharing a room last night and so awakened this morning at "the crack of darn" to torment each other. At one point, Monkey--who was sitting on my father's lap--commenced shaking his head back and forth wildly for no apparent reason....
The cavities have been filled for several hours, now, and I am still bearing a frightening resemblance to a stroke victim. I am not even going to tell you what happened when I tried to eat a cookie. But, loving mother than I am, I marched my deformed self straight to the movie store after my dentist appointment and picked up travel movies for the kids, because I love them so and putting movies on stops them from talking for 400 straight miles. Now I'd like to walk over and let our neighbors know we're going to be out of town, but my speech is still a little slurred. And they'd probably think...
Packining is what happens when you simultaneously pack and panic. Packining is what happens whenever I try to pack for a trip, but particularly when I am trying to pack for a trip that is supposed to start tomorrow morning and I haven't done the laundry yet and I have one additional child here at Chaos Central and despite my proliferation of lists I remain convinced that I am going to forget to pack something absolutely crucial, like children's vitamins, and then my children will die because I'm a negligent mother. Guess what's happening right now! Go on! Guess! The idea is, the kids and I...
(NA NA NA NA NA NA) Kira has threatened me with bodily harm if I do not share that today is my birthday. So hey! Guess what! Today! is! my! birthday! I am not so much a fan of the whole birthday thing. There is no traumatic birthday-related drama in my past, or anything. Maybe it goes back to the unfairness of how us summer birthday kids never got to bring cupcakes to school. I don't know. It's not a big deal. Birthdays just tend to make me a wee bit melancholy. So, I got up this morning and opened my presents from the kids. My ex struggled as a gift-giver even when we still liked each...
Things I can do on a Sunday afternoon while waiting for my children to return: Read the Sunday paper pre-trampling. Put away the laundry (finally). Remove stained and outgrown clothing items from children's wardrobes and bury the evidence. Eat Doritos for lunch. Finish reading the novel I started yesterday. Marvel a little bit about how much I've missed devouring a book, uninterrupted, like that. Make travel plans. Make lists of things to do in preparation for said travel. Admire how clean the kids' rooms are. Do more laundry. Pay bills and balance my checkbook. Use vulgar language in...
