My daughter brought this flyer home from school, encouraging us to send in donations for the humane society.
Well, I'm all for helping homeless animals as long as they're cute.
Luckily, I just cleaned out the master bathroom so we had a bunch of towels to donate. Seriously, Phillip and I are the only ones who use that bathroom and there were 12 towels in there. Twelve.
I just hope no ugly animals get them.
I took one of my boys in for a cardiology check-up and saw this vending machine in the lobby.
I guess since it's a medical complex, they probably had the best of intentions in reminding people to eat healthy. But it almost seems sort of mean when the most nutritious thing available is the bag of Cheetos at B2.
Occasionally on Sundays, I teach the adult women's Sunday school class (called Relief Society) at my church. Which is fine, but church is always a rough time for the baby, who is totally crabby and ready to go home by the time Relief Society rolls around.
Long story short, it took 4 ladies taking turns walking him up and down the halls and digging snacks out of their purses for 40 minutes during my lesson.
Phillip was in another room playing piano for the kids' singing time, but when he finished he followed the baby's wails down the hallway to find him furiously stress-eating Cheerios out of the hand of the Relief Society president.
That's one thing I love about our little faith community. I love to look around and see how people's children are sitting on the laps of other families in church, and we kind of all just watch out for them together. I guess what I'm saying is that it takes a village to raise a child — I know because mine utilized the entire village on Sunday.
The kids have been getting a little stir-crazy this winter, since it's been cold but without the benefit of much snow to play in.
So they've been putting their energy into indoor activities like re-organizing the pantry
and experimenting with the effects of gravity on household materials.
They were really happy to finally get some snow this week.
This week I received a compliment on my "calm parenting." At first it made me feel really good, but then as I was thinking about it in the car on the way home I started feeling guilty about all the times I've lost my temper and not been a calm parent, and before you know it I was beating myself up about it.
Only in Bizarro Mom World can a compliment about your parenting make you feel like a crappy mother.
You know what, though? Just take the compliment. The next time somebody says you're doing good, believe them. You probably are.
Phillip has been working from home lately as a way to make up for going on a work trip every week for the last 3 weeks. And possibly because he doesn't want to completely miss the kids' childhoods.
Having him home 24/7 between his work trips has been a lifesaver when I double- and triple-booked myself for several appointments, so I like it.
Even if he does have to hide in the basement to make phone calls because the kids are upstairs reenacting the wildebeest stampede from The Lion King.
I learned something new. Not because I wanted to.
Forgive the stereotype, but I had no desire to learn how to use the snowblower and was perfectly happy letting Phillip handle anything that falls into the "big machines you use outside" category.
But since we got 8" of snow while he was out of town, I figured it out.
|Gigantic snow splatter on the garage door from when I forgot to turn the chute to the other side.|