Sigh. It’s been a rough week. What’s that you say? It’s only Wednesday? *SIGH*
We are caught in a schizophrenic weather patter here in the great green northwest- It snowed, yes SNOWED on Friday- then Saturday was bright and sunny and lovely enough for an Easter Egg hunt- which of course we did not make, since my poor children’s mother cannot find their Easter baskets. Sunday was cold. Monday it hailed. Right now, I’m looking over the top of my monitor, and the sun is shining and glowing all over the crocus along the fence- the same crocus that were covered with SNOW three hours ago. How, tell me, does one dress for this crap?
Bean got sent home from Pre-School yesterday. That’s all I’m going to say about that.
Remember the car breaking down? Yeah. Well, it’s fixed- and we’re $900 poorer. Cause that’s what we need right now- unexpected bills! Hooray! No job, no insurance, mechanic bills! Hooray! At least the car works now.
Abby had outgrown positively everything in her closet- as the weather changes and I have to dig out things for warmer days- oh! Nope! It’s snowing again! Well, as I was saying, in five minutes, when it’s sunny and warm again, the girl needs some things to wear. Off to the consignment store, basket of old, small, cute stuff in hand, in search of new, slightly bigger, hopefully still-cute stuff.
I’m on the warpath. This house will be clean or else! Else what? I have no idea. But I have to try.
David read a study yesterday that said the in the most successful marriages, the woman is more attractive than the man. Divorce rates are higher when the man is better looking. What’s up with that? And who decides? He says we’re destined to be married forever. Whatever, buddy. You still have to pick up your dirty clothes.
I have a new Visiting Teaching route and companion. I figure, when you add up us and the ladies we visit, there are 20 kids, four husbands and a dog between us. I dare you try and find a time when all of us are available. Yeah. We’re splitting it up this month.
The boys have been playing musical-beds. I never know who’ll be in what bed when I go to kiss them at night. Or which end their heads will be, for that matter. Last night I kissed Bean’s toes, thinking I was getting Jeff’s cheek.
Parent-Teacher conferences are this week. That’s all I’m saying about that. Well, that and my son evidently prefers chatting it up with his neighbors over listening the teacher. Or doing headstand, or walking like a robot, or sticking his pencil in his ear- all of those things win out over Teacher. Can you blame the kid?
Laundry Mountain beckons- I’m off like a herd of turtles. My grandma used to say that. I have no idea what it means, but it makes me feel good to say things she used to say.