Oh, look. Dishes that need to be done. Cereal that needs to be put away. A preschooler who needs his hair combed and teeth brushed. The toddler should probably get his shoes on soon. I have 15 minutes before we drop the preschooler off for school and then it's back home to the grind. The grind? Grind. Weird word.
I have furniture and books and toys to move --Room #2 is finished! Photos to come later. But I need to get the shift-over finished so hubby-man can paint the next room. We have to do it one-by-one in order for it to work. Unfortunately, that means the older boys won't get their room until it's all finished. I'm hoping it can happen in less than 2 weeks. That's reasonable, right?
Just bought a Bumbo online. I realized as I purchased it that it will probably be the last piece of baby "stuff" I buy. Ever.
The toddler just went to get more cereal. I already washed him up, crazy kid.
My brain is so tired today, but I'm determined to get stuff done! All that stuff up there. Plus laundry and dishes and the floors and...well, whatever. I get it all done --it just takes me so much longer now. I go very slow. But as I go about doing it all, I tell myself: "It's okay if you're slow. You are growing another human being. And at least you are doing it! Slowness is nothing in the face of actually DOING IT."
My friend Flip Flop Mama had her baby! So excited for her that her baby girl is here. Makes me want mine --but not until the rooms are finished!
My other friend and her hubby are going to Hawaii today. SO. Very. Jealous. I shouldn't be --I was just there in June! But Hawaii and me = true love. Can't help being a tad jealous. Maybe we should just move there.
I'm trying to be more positive. But I made the mistake of saying it out loud and writing it down and now satan and his minions are throwing out the temptation like crazy. Don't believe me? Too bad for you. Because it's true. I'm trying to be nicer, but instead I keep freaking out. Which reminds me of a story:
On Saturday, we had a bazillion things to do. I was stressed. It got to the point that I was yelling at EVERYONE, including poor Brandon. When I shouted first at the 4 year old "Stop acting like a child!" and then yelled at my husband (who, bless his heart, just stood there), I knew I was out of control. So I went into our bedroom and shut the door. I took a 20 minute hot shower, got dressed in comfy clothes, and then took a 2-3 hour nap.
Some may say that was laziness and selfishness winning. My family thinks otherwise.
I gave myself a time out. My body needed the rest (I was so exhausted) and my brain needed to calm down. I can't say it made me the cheeriest person ever, but when I finally emerged, I apologized profusely, taught my kids what I had done wrong, and told them that taking time outs when anger was ruling the situation was IDEAL.
Yeah. So I'm not perfect. Meh.
Okay. Gotta run. The preschooler still needs to brush his teeth!