Today I passed gas at my new neighbors house and made one of her kids jump. I had no way out so I just laughed it off and blamed it on the unborn child in my belly
(at least I really am pregnant).
I told my 3 year old to stop yelling at me at the top of my lungs--all because she didn't want me to wipe her mouth off after she ate her lunch. Before that, she tried to put her chocolate milk in the sink and missed, spilling it all over herself and the kitchen floor (why was I worried about wiping her mouth?).
I only put my bra on once today when I visited my neighbor ( and a lot of good that did for me).
My one year old pooped sometime during her brief morning nap and then removed her diaper, stepped in the poop, and shuffled around her bed for a while. She was just getting started;
I ended up bathing her four times today.
I did weed the garden while chatting with my neighbor (this is before I tooted in her basement and scared her kid) but I was really just avoiding the laundry and dirty floors inside, so I don't feel that satisfied "I got a lot done today" feeling. Such a shame.
And to top off the day, I got into a small argument with my sweet husband about our weed eater and he went to bed early. So I did what any normal person would do, having the rest of the evening to myself...I made a huge batch of chocolate chip cookies, watched Valentine's Day which made my cry, twice; Once when the old couple made up in the cemetery and again when Julia Roberts came home to her son.
I tip-toed upstairs, crawled into bed and laid there quietly for a minute. Then it hit me that these are the days I should remember; these typical, disastrous, ordinary days when I find myself not liking everything in my life. Because despite the chocolate milk, the smeared poop, the "unexpected" at the neighbor's house, the dirty floors, the weed-eater argument--and all the imperfections in my life--I'm happy.
And that's a lesson I'd like to pass on to my kids.
Happy Independence Day.
(May the fireworks be enough to remind you of the small celebrations in life
that all add up to much more than we may think.)
(at least I really am pregnant).
I told my 3 year old to stop yelling at me at the top of my lungs--all because she didn't want me to wipe her mouth off after she ate her lunch. Before that, she tried to put her chocolate milk in the sink and missed, spilling it all over herself and the kitchen floor (why was I worried about wiping her mouth?).
I only put my bra on once today when I visited my neighbor ( and a lot of good that did for me).
My one year old pooped sometime during her brief morning nap and then removed her diaper, stepped in the poop, and shuffled around her bed for a while. She was just getting started;
I ended up bathing her four times today.
I did weed the garden while chatting with my neighbor (this is before I tooted in her basement and scared her kid) but I was really just avoiding the laundry and dirty floors inside, so I don't feel that satisfied "I got a lot done today" feeling. Such a shame.
And to top off the day, I got into a small argument with my sweet husband about our weed eater and he went to bed early. So I did what any normal person would do, having the rest of the evening to myself...I made a huge batch of chocolate chip cookies, watched Valentine's Day which made my cry, twice; Once when the old couple made up in the cemetery and again when Julia Roberts came home to her son.
I tip-toed upstairs, crawled into bed and laid there quietly for a minute. Then it hit me that these are the days I should remember; these typical, disastrous, ordinary days when I find myself not liking everything in my life. Because despite the chocolate milk, the smeared poop, the "unexpected" at the neighbor's house, the dirty floors, the weed-eater argument--and all the imperfections in my life--I'm happy.
And that's a lesson I'd like to pass on to my kids.
Happy Independence Day.
(May the fireworks be enough to remind you of the small celebrations in life
that all add up to much more than we may think.)