Enough with the postpartum hair loss, already! Judging by the walls of my shower, I'm either taking up a collection for Locks of Love or making some kind of demented human hair art.
Phillip thinks it's gross that I plaster my disembodied hair to the walls, but it comes out by the handful when I wash my hair and it's either that or down the drain.
And guess who has to unclog the drains? Phillip, that's who. So really, I'm doing it out of love.
A friend and I took our kids to a hands-on, indoor-outdoor science and nature museum. We had fun seeing the exhibits, but mostly it was just visiting the restroom.
Seriously, with 11 kids between the two of us, 90% of our trip was either looking for a bathroom, waiting in line for the bathroom, or asking people if they needed to use the bathroom. At least there were two of us so we could tag-team it.
Have you ever been melting chocolate, and a tiny drop of water gets in it, and the whole thing suddenly turns into a hard, fudgy mess? That's what happened when Phillip was making chocolate-covered pretzels (gluten-free, of course.) It's called seizing.
I love that word because it sounds like such a catastrophic event. Emergency! The chocolate seized!
Which really, it kind of is. I'm not going to pretend that tears weren't shed when it happened to us.
For you non-hikers, I'll explain how trail systems work: usually there are a few different colored trails, which may intersect each other at certain points. You know which fork to take by following trail markers, which are usually colored metal discs or painted shapes on tree trunks along the trail.
My kids know that to stay on the blue trail, you follow the blue markers. And to get on the yellow trail, you follow the yellow markers.
But you're screwed if you see this like we did on Saturday, which has to be the world's most unhelpful trail marker.
|Not telling which way is which color and you can't make me.|
Thank goodness we had a printed map with us, or we might still be in there.
If you want your lawn covered in potato salad and like to pick up random paper plates and utensils and empty water bottles from the nethermost regions of your yard, I highly recommend inviting my children to your next cookout.
We had a church barbeque over the weekend and after the kids ate and scampered off to play, I looked around and thought, "Oh my gosh! Why do they think they can just leave a huge mess like this just because it's a cookout?"
Then I realized it looked exactly like the dining room at home after meals, so maybe the problem is bigger than I originally thought.
We've been cleaning out our basement, which is quite a project because for the last 6 years it's become a graveyard for defunct electronics and broken crap we don't know what to do with.
I lobbied hard for just going down there with a giant garbage bag and throwing it all away even if it means paying to dispose of some of it, but Phillip insisted on putting the electronics on eBay to see if we could make some money.
And I'm totally shocked at what people have bought from us. Someone purchased our old VCR for $8, you guys. Our VCR. It's possible that some of you reading this don't even know what that is.
I still can hardly believe it, but at least now I know where we can get rid of our old 8-track player, our butter churn, and our conestoga wagon.
I mentioned on this blog that a few weeks ago my son cut his head on the coffee table and had it glued back together in the E.R.
This week, this arrived in the mail.
|Yes, the envelope was addressed to my 2-year-old. He didn't care.|
On the inside it says, "Thank you for splitting your head open, and also for allowing us to gouge you further in the amount of $427.22. We look forward to servicing you after your next near-death experience!"