Love/hate Friday

Love: The weekend is nigh

Hate: That minus two separate stay-at-home days with an ear infected Iris and an ear infected Ezra, I have been at work every day since the 19th.  No bueno.

Love: Tomorrow Ezra and I are going to a free class the public library is offering to city residents.  It's called "Creative Movement" and I'm wondering if I should don a unitard.

Hate: Not knowing what to expect.  I hope it's not lame.

Love: That in addition to working a lot and lone wolfing it at home with sick children, T recognized the crazy sound in my voice while talking on the phone one evening  and told me to take a bunch of Free K Self Time on Saturday and Sunday.  Woot.

Hate: He's worked equally hard and needs to sleeeeepppp but won't come to bed early because he's too busy working on spreadsheets.

Love: Perhaps seeing my BC (book club) gals on Sunday night. 

Hate: It is supposed to be mucho cold and rainy tomorrow.  Actually, this isn't so much a hate as it is a "snuggle" and a "put a coat on" and a "drink more CARAMEL CIDERS!"

Love: Holy stank, The Blathering get together is only three weeks away!

Hate: Worrying about if my clothes are hoopty and if I should up the Sequin Quotient to compensate. 

Love: Following new and interesting and smart alecky people on Twitter

Hate: Twitter is a time suck, yo

Love: T taught Iris how to flap her hands close to her body whenever he says to her, "Tweet! Tweet! Act like a birdy!"  It's pretty awesome and ridiculous looking.

Hate: Squirrels dropping acorns left and right.  They bounce off of our garage roof and come close to hitting our melons while we're outside.

Love: One year one did actually bean T on the head.  It took him so completely by surprise I almost peed myself laughing.


What are you loving and hating?

Pattypans

One of my all-time favorite books is "Little Men" by Louise May Alcott.  In the book there is a chapter where Daisy complains that the boys won't let her play their games and Jo Bhaer (nee March) goes about creating this incredibly awesome pint-sized kitchen for Daisy and Nan.  We're talking a real working stove and oven and teeny little pots and dishes and it's...sigh.  Everything I wanted when I was little. 

Of course, fresh off the heals of Iris locking me in the basement yesterday morning there is no bloody way I'd let Senorita Sassypants access a wood burning stove.  Come on.  She'd burn the joint down, saving only her blankies.

In the meantime, I did manage to score in a major way a Little Tykes kitchen for only $20.00 from a very nice woman off CraigsList who let me pick it up and stuff it in the back of my car but two hours after I contacted her.

I then scrubbed the pants off it in our driveway during my lunchbreak from work and straight tore up my manicure from the bleach.  Ah well.

I could not WAIT to show it to the small fries--both of whom bolted (well, Ezra crawled thanks in no part to a shot of Rocephin to clear up his ear infection.  The Rocephin is like sludge so the shot in the thigh is anything but quick.  Unbeknownst to him, he goes back for a second dose today.  He's going to wig--gah.  Anyway...) for the play room once they saw where I set it up.

Iris was particularly fond of the microwave and of shoving her brother's hands off anything she thought she should be playing with.  Thing is, he doesn't shove her back (sweet boy).  He may need to once she gets bigger as I have a feeling she's going to need some firmer boundaries. 

Heh.







Rockin' kitty sticker thanks to the doctor.






Short version: I need a vodka tonic

I just started and deleted a very boring post about how Iris locked me in the basement this morning.  I shat a brick.  Ezra wigged out and started hardcore crying ("I'm lonely for you, Mama!"  "Baby, grab my PHONE!").  The AfricanAmericanBerry, thankfully (!!!), fit under the door.  I called my mom who rushed over from work.  Ezra kept an eye on Iris ("Sweetie, make sure she doesn't touch cords.  IS SHE TOUCHING CORDS?!").  We sang songs through the basement door.  My dad showed up, too.  They broke me free.  We were on the road to school and work a mere 15 minutes late. 

It's important to note that I fully accept that I am going die earlier because of these events which shave years off my life due to their sneak attack HORROR.  It's a good thing that T is older since this might mean we will drift off into the sunset together. 

Unrelated to spouses that croak together, this commercial makes me laugh out loud.

Random useless tidbits

It is balls freezing in my office.  Haaaattteee.

****

The next week and a half is going to be nutsauce at home and at work for both T and I.  I'm really trying to not dread it because that doesn't change a damn thing except add "Dread" and "Potentially Pissy Attitude" to the list.

So!  Busyness is good!  It means we have jobs!  And kids that are healthy at home!  Woot!

****

I cannot stop drinking hot cider drinks with caramel sauce in them. 

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I have so much hunger for food today.  So, so much.  I want to eat everything in sight and then all of their friends.

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My desire to work is...minimal.  My need to work is High.

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So many babies are arriving or have already arrived (yay babies!) and for the splittest of the split seconds I had a twinge for another.  Then it disappeared. 

****

Iris said "Mine!" this morning when Ezra tried to take away her stuffed puppy.  Thumbs up to new words and sassy assertiveness.

****

Ezra and Iris are so kind to one another when the other is sad or distressed or crying.  They both will seek the other one out. Ezra will pat Iris' head and tell her it's okay and try to give her hugs, and Iris will crawl over to Ezra and give him kisses. 

It makes me happy.

****

I have not been watching much television lately and this makes me sadder than it probably should.

****

Some random pictures of our daughter who is a blankie JUNKY and will laugh like a crazy woman when she spots one and finally gets her hand on it.  Her laugh is so ridiculous it makes T and I then laugh.  Ezra is just confused, although, he shouldn't be considering he is Mr. Paci McBlankielover.

Would you still be my friend?

One of my favorite things to do is to ask my friends, "Would you still be my friend if I...(fill in the blank)?"  Often it's wearing a jenky outfit or walking a ridiculous way (which I always demonstrate) or something else ridiculous all together like eating scabs.  Friends always participate and are almost always loyal.  I have good friends.

Even T isn't exempt as he is sometimes asked, "Would you still have married me if I...had man hands?...had five kids?...had a lisp?...had a moustache?...ate mayonnaise out of the jar?"  He rolls his eyes, but he answers.  Usually with "no."

Anyway, I have been looking for a dress or something new and snazzy to wear to The Blathering (!!!).  Texas weather seems speshul, so I'm not exactly sure what I'm looking for or even what I have in mind. 

I browsed around and found some things that were not It.

Would you still be my friend if I wore these?

Pretty in a diaphanous/macaroni and cheese foodbaby enabling kind of way, the feedback on its effect on the female form were NOT kind.

Well, well, WELL now

So, you know, not but 15 minutes after I posted, "Boy, I sure wish I could leave early and spend time with my kids..." God decided to call my bluff and Iris' teacher at school called.  Muffin had a temp of 102 and was kind of sad sack.  It was as if I unintentionally busted out my own twisted version of The Secret. 

To sum up the next eight hours: the day ended up going topsy-turvy, I don't do topsy-turvy very well, Iris has a burgeoning ear infection and I climbed into bed feeling like I'd been beaten with a bag of rocks. 

With T out of town, staying home with Iris (who no longer has a fever, but has to steer clear of daycare for 24 hours) fell on me.  Work is nutty.  Ezra ran me through the ringer yesterday.  I needed a hot shower. 

So I called J the Fabulous the Nanny/Soon to Be Sister in Law!  She said she was available the entire day to hang-out with Iris and ECSTATIC to be able to do so.  I about cried because it was a long reach that J would be available since she is grad school.

I had a moment of regret because what a crap mom to be off-loading her sick daughter on someone else to go to work and, oh my Lord!, we are so paying double--J for one day + daycare too.  Gah.  I waffled over whether or not I chose poorly.  This waffling contributed to the Beaten with Rocks feeling as I oozed into bed much too late.

But whatever chump said that the next day dawns brighter may have known what he was talking about.  Iris woke up without a hint of fever and also pretty damn sassy.  Ezra was a kick-ass listener this morning.  I am wearing a new dress.  Drop-off at school with only one child was dreeeeaaammmmy. It is sunny and 72 out.  I am going to leave early to run errands and make a pot pie.  J and Iris are delighting in each other's company.  Muffin is away--at least for one day--from the rampant Toddler Room germs. 

I am breathing a bit easier. 

Coincidence?

This is my 666th post. 

The post I wanted to use to tell you about our morning and how hard it was with Ezra but, in all honesty, it certainly doesn't come to close to being as ominous as the sign of the Devil so I guess that's a win.

Ezra's struggles with listening and epic whining and transitions from one activity to another appears to come in three week cycles.  Undoubtedly, the Good cycle has T and I thinking we've rounded the bend and perhaps it'll stick.  It has yet to and we never seem to remember that he/we're not there yet.  The Rough cycle is rough.  Hardcore struggles with Ezra being able to listen well the first time (something important to us that he learns), many time-outs, shouting (which I do NOT tolerate), tears.  As bad as some of what I've read it could be?--no.  As good as I know Ezra is capable of?--no.

We had all of that this morning between 7:20am and 8:05am.  A time-out for not listening even after T asked him and counted 1-2-3. Tears when I reminded him that the tv would be turned off so that we could leave for school.  Flailing on the ground included for free!

Ignoring and isolating Ezra when he's that upset only escalates his frustration and sadness, so I can usually temper it by: a) empathizing or b) offering him words to tell me how he feels or c) physically picking him up and parking him on a seat in order for him to sort out his biznass.  But in the course of picking him up this morning, I pinched his arm.  He then was even sadder and weepier that I hurt him and he told me this.  I felt like a shitheel for hurting him and even shittier for knowing that I hurt him while I was frustrated, even though I know I did not pinch him because I was frustrated.  I just never want him to associate me with physical hurt or to feel fearful of my touch.

Sigh.

Then as soon as we got that under control and I turned off the television and Iris stuffed into her coat and T was backing out of the driveway, I heard the back screen door open and close and knew Ezra was going outside.

I shouted for him louder and louder to get him to come inside because I knew T would think he was inside and not think to look behind him while backing out of the driveway.  Horror.

Ezra came inside and was sobbing because I was shouting so loudly.  He was scared.  I felt bad (again). 

All was mostly good by drop-off at school, but both small fries were unsure and sad once stationed in their classrooms because their regular teachers weren't there.

So I sit here in my office missing them like I usually do on Monday mornings but it's made even worse by the fact that I want a do-over from this morning.  More time and patience for Ezra so that I can address what he's got Going On.  More kisses for Iris.  Less rushing.  I'd like to think that the evening would allow for this do-over, but our evenings are rushy, too. 

All of this just makes me want to leave my job and pick them up early in order to spend the afternoon with them and erase this morning's memory. 

I got answers for ya

An announcement to no one in particular, but my blog is kind of hoopty. Hooptiness aside, one thing I would never want you to think is that I take your comments and queries for granted.  NEV-VAH!  I treasure with a capital "T" the time you take to read my tidbits and leave a thoughtful something-something afterwards. 

You ask questions in the "Comments" sections and they are often things I want to reply to*.  Because if it's one thing I spill'eth over with--it is answers.  Cripe, I'm a librarian.  I'm in the job of answering questions.  Albeit more boring ones about public laws and whatnot, but still. 

Since I didn't want you to think that I ignore what you ask (because I so don't), I went back through the "Comments" to the start of July and decided to answer pretty much anything with a question mark after it.

Here we go:

Nora said:
"Wait!!  You vaccuum every day? We can be friends now.!!"
I totally vacuum every day and it's kind of an illness, really.  I just can't handle crumbies or hair or whatnot.  I don't vacuum the ENTIRE house everyday.  Gah.  No.  Just, like, our living room rug which is dark red and shows everything and maybe then Swiffer our kitchen too.  Nora, we are so totally friends.

Erica asked:
"Do you ever read sky mall? I think it contains all the solutions to life."
I snagglepuss Sky Mall the minute I'm on a plane, and T will straight up snatch it OFF the plane.  And then put it on his nightstand.  And show me things he intends to buy at a later, more wealthy date.  He is ridiculous and full of the dreams.

Starrfish wondered:
"Was the letter tucked away or was it just out in the open? Is it dated? No author signature?"
Ah, the letter.  What a gem, right?!  The letter was on lined memo paper and without a date.  I think T said he found it tucked somewhere in a box, maybe.  And, no, it wasn't signed. 

My opinion, though, was that it ended kind of abruptly so maybe there's another page somewhere?  I shall send T back up there soon.  He needs to put the storm windows back on anyway.

~SHE~ asked:
"You didn't say how old the paper looked.  Sometimes you can tell a generation by the handwriting, but I think the names gave it away.  Was it in an envelope with postage or a postmark? What about an address?"
Sadly, none of the above.  Boo. 

Erica chimed in:
"Best pictures ever.  What is it about you people and pants/lack thereof?"
Pants are pinchy.  I do not like pinchy.  The End.

Serenity Now asked:
"Can you share the menu planning blocks and squares ocd-ness please?"
Sure!  I found it here.

Mrs. Irritation wonders:
"How can you hate Little Bear?  Really??!"
Little Bear and all of his little Maurice Sendak friends are so totally milquetoast that it enrages me.  And classically drawn which is kind of boring to my eyeballs.  And their adventures are total poser adventures. 

Plus there is the age old question of why do his parents wear clothes but he wears nothing at all.  EVEN IN WINTER.  Why so nudie, Little Bear? CPS, anyone?

Jessica commented:
"The 'Good morning, good morning, it's a sunny day...' makes me think of the 'Morning's Here' song on Friends."
Not so much a question, but, Jessica, the minute I read that?  I could not stop singing "MORNING'S HEEEREEE!" in Joey Tribbiani's voice.  T could not fully appreciate it and neither could the children.  Their loss.

B said:
"Who'd have thought they'd make it that kind of manly place? Have you tried Snip-Its?"
We have tried Snip-Its and they do a pretty good job on Ezra's hair.  My only beef with Snip-Its is that you can't make appointments unless you pay to be in their Kids Club or something else similarly named.  And then they can only guarantee a 15 minute wait versus no wait at all.  And!  Snip-Its is totally expensive.  The two times--although, good times--we've been there for Ezra, the haircut plus tip was close to $25.00. 

It's totally a better-non-sexed-up-decor option, but I just kind of feel like I'm being bamboozled.

Erica wondered:
"You confuse me.  Now you love pants? You and pants have a conflicted relationship."
Totally, Erica.  It's a relationship I don't even understand yet.  Pants are pinchy yet they keep me from having to shave my legs on the regular.  Pants are harder to fit and wear than skirts, but are a better option when its super snowy out and all my tights are in the wash.

It's a love-hate relationship.

Keli grilled (just kidding...love you!):
"why you no post pics of you? huh?"
From the beginning of time--or at least adolescence--I have loooooathed pictures of myself.  So I don't post them on here not because I'm worried about keeping you all in the dark; I don't post them here because rarely do I see pictures suitable for viewing.

Kristina Marie wondered:
"Have a totally random and odd question--the picture to that is on the left side of your blog--is that you and T? It's such a cool picture, but for some reason I can't enlarge it, so I was just curious!"
Nah, that's not us.  I totally snaggled it from the interweb and there it sits  unattributed. 

Yeah.  Not good.  I know.

I should probably switch it out because that's not exactly kosher (Swiper, no swiping!) and not exactly us.  I will work on that tonight!




*Before you all chime in with helpful tidbits on fancy WordPress and Typepad and their options--or even fancier Blogger options--to respond to comments directly, I'm not even super happy with what I've seen on other blogs as to meeting this need.  So boo.  Everyone sucks.  But me.  And my hoopty way of making you know I care.

Time to crack some can

I am feeling full of the Vigilante Productivity (a take-off of "Vigilante Justice," Vigilante Productivity has the same level of sass with just a little bit less ass-kicking) for this weekend.

Could be because I know that I'm not going to sweat my balls off in the heat thanks to this cooler weather.  Could be because I am going on a Saturday Night Girl Date with a fabulous lady friend in all the world, J.  Could be because I feel like I might want to cook some new and fabulous dishes. 

My report back on Monday could hold little to no success, but I am creating a list so that I may hold myself accountable. 

Weekend to-do's:

1. Create a menu of meals for next week, incorporating two new recipes
2. Buy all the things needed for eating
3. Get Iris some yogurt to bring to school
4. Talk to T about our upcoming week's schedule
5. Take Ezra to pick out his Bumblebee Transformers mask since he has filled his chart with Xs and a month's worth of awesome bedtimes
6. Call my brother to wish him a "Happy Birthday" on Sunday
7. Change everyone's sheets
8. Do laundry and put everything away before I die a slow sleepy death on Sunday evening
9. Take Ezra and Iris to the playground or on a walk
10. Go to the library to return old books and pick out new books
11. Spend less time watching television.  The only person getting a pass is T who loves College Game Day.

Oh my lord.  That list looks so lame.  Like all it needs is for #12 to be "Breathe air-type oxygen." 

The list's items are so elementary, but sometimes I feel like if I don't make a list all that happens is we end up lounging and staring at each other watching tv and wrestling and being ridiculous.  Which, yeah, that's totally fun and needed to relax--but come Sunday (as happened last week...), I'm running around like a woman foaming at the mouth trying to get laundry done and peeking to see if we have enough food to last the week without a major grocery trip.

I just would like to be a bit more pulled together and for Monday to come with me feeling less of a hot mess.

A gal can wish--or plan, I suppose.

Nosey Nancy: change of weather edition

I am feeling kind of Lowly Worm and out of sorts and I can't tell if it's because I'm tired or it's cold or I just want to be at home and not at work or what exactly.

Anyway, maybe you want to answer some questions so that I can think about you rather than myself and my hoopty whatnot?

1. What is Fall weather like wear you live?
2. What item of clothing for the change in weather are most looking forward to wearing?
3. Do cloudy skies bum you out?
4. Would you rather drink hot cider or hot chocolate?

Let us wrestle on the chaise

Random useless tidbits

My husband: he is the fabulous. 

He was feeling lowly and sick yesterday (Iris has a cold and sneezes without abandon) but still asked me, "What can I do for you today?" and then proceeded to unload the dishwasher and do some yardwork and Swiffer the kitchen. 

****

The Ambitious Mrs. just went on a major trip to India to attend a wedding and documented it all with pictures.

Super interesting reading.

****

The weather here today is mucho nice.  Sunny.  No clouds.  85.  Delightful.

It's going to be 30 degrees colder by Friday so I'm enjoying it while I can.

****

If I ever lose my calendar and the folder I have tucked in the back labeled "Misc." I will be screwed.  It is my life in paper form.

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The term has begun at work and this means teaching.  The librarians don't teach full sections, but rather 2-4 sessions that focus on research and resources and How to Find Information Not Using Google. 

None of us enjoy these sessions because sometimes the students are ridiculous.

****

Red Door is due on Wednesday with Baby Eden.  I keep sending her texts asking if a baby has come out of her hoo-ha yet because I am that annoying friend who will stalk you if your baby's birth is imminent.

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Thanks to Erica, I have found the courage to order Iris shoes on Amazon.  Finding the time to drag her buns to Stride Rite has helped me find the error of my ways.

Behold my first online shoe purchase.  And! these bad boys will be here by Thursday.  Holla.

****

Do you have any random bits?

Service for the floopy*

The past month or so I've been feeling...bored?  Too content?  Like a stupid idiot lady for feeling this way?  Probably more that last one.  It's just that my daily groove had turned a little too groovy (minus the disco beats, unfortunately) and routine.  Same morning, same afternoon, same night.  Eating the same things.  Talking the same smack at work.  Repeat.  Repeat some more. 

I do treasure the stability because I can still remember feeling like a sad, wet, manic blanket the months Iris was a hot mess and in the hospital.  No bueno THAT.  So this?--eh, not so bad in comparison.  But all things being relative, I felt like it was time for things to veer off-course for the better. 

Then Britt wrote this post and some dim, energy-saver lightbulb started to light up in my head and heart.  A few days later, T mentioned that maybe I could start volunteering at the public library again on my Friday mornings.  Hmmm.  Perhaps.  But then I scheduled a mess of appointments for Iris in that time slot.  Boo.

Earlier this week I was cleaning out my wallet and found a flyer for an organization that needed volunteers.  It's a non-profit that supports new moms.  It points them towards resources in the community, assistance if they're suffering from any kind of post-partum depression and also matches them up with a consistent volunteer for 3-5 months.  The volunteer then spends at least two hours a week with the new mom/family doing things like chatting, commiserating, holding the new baby so the mom can take a shower or even unloading the dishwasher.

The lightbulb got brighter, and I knew this was it.

I remember feeling like a hot mess as a new mom and struggling with the loss of my rather fabulous old life that was now kaput.  Figuring out stuff in the dark, both literally and figuratively speaking.  And then there was Iris.  Phew on that one.

At any rate, this feels like It, like the thing I'm supposed to be doing to break up my monotony and help someone out.  The volunteer orientation and training is next Thursday and I can't wait.





*Totally not my word.  I snaggled it from Sam.  I like to do that. 
Floopy adj 1 a : to feel out of sorts  b: discombobulated

Go to a happy place

Despite feeling shank-a-licious with frustration today at work AND noticing that I listed yesterday's post as Tuesday instead of Wednesday, I would instead like to try and go to a happy place with pictures.

On Saturday, my friend A and her boy B (heh) got married.  It was heartfelt and lovely and I am very, very happy for them.

Ezra and Iris were mucho squirrely during the actual event (see picture in grass) and Iris and T left early for baby girl's bedtime.  Plus T was sweating a man-river down his forehead due to the ridiculous humidity.

Ezra and I ate food, danced like muthas, laughed a lot and had a good time with A's family. 

It was fun.

Love/hate Tuesday

Love: Iris can say "hi" and it sounds more like "hiiiiiiiii!"

Hate: This morning she waved at the people sharing the elevator with us on our way to PT and instead of combining that with a "hiiiiiiii," she stuck her tongue out at them. (Actually, less of a "Hate" and more of a "Giggle."  Little stinkweed.)

Love: I get to go wedding dress shopping with J the Fabulous Nanny on Saturday!  I am so excited. 

Hate: Unrelated to dress shopping--there is much ridiculousness happening at the workplace lately.

Love: Ezra and his bedtime.  Folks, he is rocking it all night long.  He no longer says, "I'm scared."  We no longer have to say goodnight to all the things.  He is going to bed when it's a little bit light in his room.  He sleeps with fewer stuffed friends.  He has woken up in the middle of the night calling for me, but he calms himself right down.  He doesn't ask for a coin for his jar each morning.  It is so, so awesome.  I feel like he and I got through it together.  And now I can sit downstairs on the couch and watch tv instead of loitering upstairs and running ongoing darkness intervention. 

Hate: T noticed this morning that he is looking a little too long for his bed.  Full-sized bed ahoy.  Ka-ching. 

Love: Iris took multiple bites of my lasagna sauce/cheese last night and even took some empty spoon bites from Ezra.  The sweet boy offered her the spoon and she dove for it with her mouth.  It made my heart burst to see him feeding her.

Hate: I forgot to bring a lunch to work today.

Love: I think I may have some cash in my wallet.  Like, four dollars.  Enough for some cake?

Hate: I am missing the small fries.

Love: Wearing pants

Hate: This late-summer/early-fall/50 in the morning/70 in the evening weather is making for some jenky clothes decisions in the morning.  I am not a gal who likes to layer (too.much.BUNCHING), so I have to get it right the first time.

Love: I drank a hot coffee this morning.



Your loves and hates?

Sights

On Saturday morning I took Ezra to get a haircut at a barbershop that is a chain and caters just to men.  He called it the "Big Boy Place," we walked right in without an appointment and they have tvs at each station thereby ensuring my son goes into The Mouthbreather Zone and sits perfectly still.  The stylists were very sweet and kind and even changed his tv from sports to cartoons; Nick Jr., no less.

The walls are decorated with the requisite man-friendly Three Stooges and Jimi Hendrix and monster trucks and Joe Namath and about a bazillion other things that males (and females) are keen on and want to stare at while getting their neck hair trimmed.  There were also girls in bikinis, Porky's, Carmen Electra bent over a car and Maxim covers. 

Ezra misses nothing and while he didn't say "boo" about the hypersexual images surrounding him (being super tuned into the cartoons on the television is more than likely why), I am not okay with those posters looking down on him. 

I had a pit in my gut the entire time he got his hair cut--not so much worried that he'd announce seeing some lady's biscuits, but rather more because I feel that he does not need to see those things.  He is little and innocent and needs to remain unconcerned with how women and men choose to portray their sexuality.  I wanted to clap my hand over his eyes.  I am no Puritan, but Ezra will have plenty of time for adult-things when he is an adult; he is still a toddler.  

The pit in my gut was strong enough that I don't think I'll be able to take him back there as a small person.  I need more time to think about how I am going to teach him to respect his body and respect a woman's body.  I need more time to think about how T and I are going to break this down for him at each age he inquires about sex and all that it entails.  More time to figure out how to explain the pressures of this-and-that and how to be strong enough to choose what is right. I'm not prepared quite yet and I don't need Audrina Patridge on Maxim jumping the gun on me. 

I need more time--for my son to remain little and for me to grapple with answers to tough questions.

Daydate: great for me / boring for you

I started this entirely boring post about how T and I went out on a daydate yesterday and it completely turned paragraphs of blahblahblah we ate a lot blah it was a good time blahblah daydates are great.

And there you have it.

But now it is after 3:00pm and I am kind of sleepy and there is a long weekend coming up where we will be doing lovely things.  Aaaaand I don't even really feel like expounding on that. 

Boo.

So because constructing sentences is proving to be difficult at this point in the day/work week, I leave you with a simply worded meme snagglepussed from one of my favorite lady people, MFA Mama. 

One. Word.
No. Explanations.

yourself: evolving

your boyfriend/girlfriend (husband, whatever): jolly

your hair: hardup

your mother: complex

your dog: non-existent

your favorite item: family

your dream last night: waffles

your favorite drink: tea

your dream car: kicky

the room you are in: office

your fear: cancer

what you want to be in ten years: secure

who you hung out with last night: sheets

what you're not: busty

muffin: iris

one of your wish items: trip

time: pressed

the last thing you did: lunch

what you are wearing: dress

your favorite weather: non-sweaty

your favorite book: many

the last thing you ate: chips

your life: content

your mood: happy

your best friend: lovely

what you are thinking about right now: bedtime

your car: German

what you are doing at the moment: blogging

your summer: short

your relationship status: fabulous

what is on your tv: DVR

what is the weather like: humid

when is the last time you laughed: recently