How's Your Week Been?

My husband is on a business trip, and he made the mistake of asking, so I told him.

"Why, yes.  That is the pile of dirty laundry.  It is taller than the kids.  The part for the washing machine arrived and can you fix it, like, as soon as you get home?  Clearly,we are desperate around here.  Everyone is starting to complain.  At least they all have enough underwear to go for about a month.  Or they’re supposed to.  Will can never find any of his.  Don’t ask.   

The door to the laundry chute can't even close.
Will wore shorts today to school.  It was 27 degrees this morning and there was frost on the car.  He tried to sneak out with shorts and a short sleeve tee shirt.  I give up.  I don’t even have it in me to fight anymore.  The thing is, the other boys at the bus stop think he’s lucky, not an idiot.  Which just illustrates the convolutedness of 11-year-old boy logic.  

Speaking of Will, he ate a 12-piece chicken nugget meal from Chick Fil A before swim practice last night because I was trying to cram some dinner into everyone between karate and swimming, and got a cramp that lasted the entire practice.  Whoops.

Why do we have so much Christmas stuff?  I got it out of the attic to start decorating, but now the hallway is crammed with it and I can’t even begin to find our Elf on the Shelf.  I think he might be stashed in our bathroom somewhere?  I may or may not have seen him lurking amongst the painkillers and muscle relaxers and creams and linens…and I think I might like to join him.  

Tate desperately wants to find your old Elf on the Shelf so he can play with it.  That thing is creepy with a k.  It’s going to give him nightmares.  He already insists there’s a ghost living in the attic that walks around at night.  I told him maybe it was that elf we were looking for, that maybe he was hiding up there and spying on us all as we slept.  It probably wasn't my best idea.  His eyes got really big and he got really quiet.  And now he’s probably going to have nightmares, FOR REAL, but I couldn’t resist.

Tate also has made it his mission since yesterday afternoon to scare me at every opportunity.  The thing is, he’s pretty good at it.  I think it’s because he yells in such a demented high-pitched squeal.  It’s freaky.   He is tickled to death every time. Will is, quite frankly, confounded by Tate’s success in this endeavor.  Of course, that kid is about as subtle as an elephant.

Meems still thinks anything added to 0 is 0.  Also, if you subtract 0 from a number, the answer is 0.  Sigh.  Unfortunately, this will probably reverse itself when we get to multiplication and she’s actually right.  However, she doesn’t neglect to fight me on it every. stinking. time.  And she’ll fight me then, too.

In other news, she was honored in front of the school yesterday when she won a most-deserved award for Compassion.  Of course, our day ended with her melting down screaming “WHATEVER, FINE, WHATEVER, ARRRRGHHH” at me while she tried to slam the bathroom door that was stuck on a towel so it kept bouncing back open.  What didn't help?  Me laughing.  Compassion fail.  I think she was hungry. Girl needs some protein.

Super proud.
Tate slept in my bed last night and in the middle of the night, he threw his arm around me and giggles “Come here, you!  Let’s snuggle.”  Which is kind of weird, maybe??  It might be time for me to tone it down a little.  

Wow, look at how filthy that glass is.

And this.  I swear I kept feeling like someone was watching me the other night.  Reminds me of Batman in the Nativity, which Tate mentioned the other day.  Then he pressed his fingers together and gave me a crazy face followed by "mwah ha ha."  

That’s all.  Have a good meeting.  Oh, BTW, that jeep thingy IS $2650.  Love you."


It's past my bedtime, but I keep reading your posts! They are just so REAL! You're not trying to show some perfect life on the blog, you're just being honest and's refreshing!

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