Speaking of things to do. I have been a pretty bad blogger lately. I know you've really been concerned. I realize your entire life completely revolves around my riveting posts. But. I will have it known that I have a couple of semi-decent excuses for my blogging lapse.
For fun, I present to you the following list of scenarios. All of them are 100% true and unexaggerated. (Okay. Well, mostly unexaggerated.) Except for one. Guess which.
- My 105 degree fever (courtesy of the swine flu) lasted seven full days. I was in bed for all of them. The chills kept me in sweaters, socks, and sweatpants under my covers. Having the fever dissapear might have been a welcome relief. Might have. Unfortunately, while I was sick, the munchkin terrorists wreaked havoc on the homefront. So getting well really meant: scrubbing 7 days of dishes, washing and drying 12 loads of laundry (which I wasn't caught up on in the first place), vacuuming entire packets of Moon Dough sprinkled over the carpets, sweeping up crackers crushed across the dining room floor, and paying the bills (all of them late).
- I decided to quit the little preschool I have on Mondays and Wednesdays. It's too much work. And all Claire does is whine and cry.
- This month Brad accepted a position with the local fire department which he earned in part due to his awesome finish time on the combat challenge. He stayed there a week. Then he realized how much he liked his other job. And he quit. His old bosses were "thrilled" to have him back. (And I was happy. Because that's what I wanted in the first place.)
- I have been fighting briefly against a long delayed case of baby blues. This means I spend half the day with Weston in my rocking chair muttering, "go to my happy place. go to my happy place." Brad comes home, finds me like this, and tells me the house looks amazing. What it really looks like is the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. But bless his soul.
- I started folding laundry again two weeks ago. Brad woke up one morning, took his shower, and headed straight to the laundry room to go dryer diving for underwear. I yelled to him from bed, "Look in your drawer!" When he opened it to find neatly folded clothing, his reaction was enough to make me believe I'd cured cancer. Again: bless him.