This post had already been written. Badly. I'm sparing you that, and will instead get to the point.
Tom said this afternoon (after a full day of cleaning and organizing while Margaret watched the girls here at home), "This is fun!"
And again I say, "Ha!"
Showing posts with label clean is sexy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label clean is sexy. Show all posts
Monday, March 28, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Deepish Thoughts
As part of my job, I go wherever my employers have their materials. One of my employers runs the business from her gorgeous home near the top of the foothills. One morning Nance and I went to pick up a job. The smell emanating from her house was noxious. She said that her trainer had her cooking a bunch of broccoli the previous night and that it, for some reason, was still hanging in the air.
Last night I made a bunch of broccoli, pureed it and tossed in the freezer for future consumption by one Fynnie Fynn.
Last night and today I noticed a serious lack of noxious smells. Except from Maisy, who'd gotten into the compost.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I have a dilemma. If I hold my stomach in, I look better. An odd side effect is that my belly button goes up more than an inch. Not to an unusual height or anything.
Dilemma? That makes my breast over an inch closer to my belly button. I'll bet if I had another baby, I'd eventually be bumping my breasts with my knees. While walking.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Last week I made a wild and crazy suggestion to Tom. It used to be that he enjoyed my weird ideas. This one involved sending the kids away to Grandma's for at least a day, possibly an overnight, this weekend. To clean and organize our home.
A snowy pass and a long Saturday morning at work for Tom have eliminated the possibility for this weekend. We have plans for next weekend that are supposed to be just as fun. Trip to an exotic animal sanctuary with that mom's group I found when Fynn was born. It could be fun, I guess.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Speaking of the mom's group... I hunted down the woman who started the group yesterday. Her daughter was selling Girl Scout cookies at Albertson's (which Mad now thinks is The Cookie Store). Bundled up the girls, complete with hair and unstained, appropriate clothes for all of us. Met the daughter of the mom, other Scouts and a couple of other mothers. The mother wasn't there. She apparently just missed us and heard how adorable my girls are.
I am so freaking close to making friends up here. Part of me wonders if I've hallucinated the upcoming trip to the animal sanctuary.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Mad thinks "Ins Mints" are the best thing ever. She was disappointed Fynnie couldn't try them.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Fynnie's first tooth erupted today. About an hour after we got up. She was chewing on my knuckle and it wasn't there. She nursed, went back to the knuckle and there it was. Thank goodness, poor baby. She's the first one of my children to need anything more than a cool washcloth to help her get through.
Last night I made a bunch of broccoli, pureed it and tossed in the freezer for future consumption by one Fynnie Fynn.
Last night and today I noticed a serious lack of noxious smells. Except from Maisy, who'd gotten into the compost.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I have a dilemma. If I hold my stomach in, I look better. An odd side effect is that my belly button goes up more than an inch. Not to an unusual height or anything.
Dilemma? That makes my breast over an inch closer to my belly button. I'll bet if I had another baby, I'd eventually be bumping my breasts with my knees. While walking.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Last week I made a wild and crazy suggestion to Tom. It used to be that he enjoyed my weird ideas. This one involved sending the kids away to Grandma's for at least a day, possibly an overnight, this weekend. To clean and organize our home.
A snowy pass and a long Saturday morning at work for Tom have eliminated the possibility for this weekend. We have plans for next weekend that are supposed to be just as fun. Trip to an exotic animal sanctuary with that mom's group I found when Fynn was born. It could be fun, I guess.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Speaking of the mom's group... I hunted down the woman who started the group yesterday. Her daughter was selling Girl Scout cookies at Albertson's (which Mad now thinks is The Cookie Store). Bundled up the girls, complete with hair and unstained, appropriate clothes for all of us. Met the daughter of the mom, other Scouts and a couple of other mothers. The mother wasn't there. She apparently just missed us and heard how adorable my girls are.
I am so freaking close to making friends up here. Part of me wonders if I've hallucinated the upcoming trip to the animal sanctuary.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Mad thinks "Ins Mints" are the best thing ever. She was disappointed Fynnie couldn't try them.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Fynnie's first tooth erupted today. About an hour after we got up. She was chewing on my knuckle and it wasn't there. She nursed, went back to the knuckle and there it was. Thank goodness, poor baby. She's the first one of my children to need anything more than a cool washcloth to help her get through.
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