Yeah, I know.
I remembered today that I actually have a blog that a handful of wonderful, distinguished, amazing people read every day. That is, if I were to actually write something every day.
I thought I had this moving thing licked. Well, after dealing with a psycho of a "handy"man supposedly doing work on the house we're selling and then fussing with my hubby on Easter morning as we rummage through boxes to fnd a lost "Easter Shoe" (sounds like a children's book title)...well, I realized I do NOT in fact enjoy the process of moving, thankyouverymuch. No, I'm tired as can be of digging through boxes of STUFF--stuff that was once neatly organized contents of desk drawers, spice cabinets, belt racks-- all jumbled together in an unsightly concoction and tossed willy nilly into a box. Lawd.
Oh yeah, and moving with a three month old? Do. Not. Do. This. He has been an absolute champ but mama's nerves get fried real easy when the Cryin' and the Fussin' starts and I can't get anything done. Do not get me wrong, folks...I love him and his smiles make each day worth getting up for...but when da' boy needs da' attention...he demands it. My sis-in-law Tonia is here this week helping out. She is also under the impression that she is getting to leave on Friday. Yeah, um, that's not gonna' happen. I've bribed her with honey and almond body lotion, Sun Chips and even cough drops (I'll stop at nothin, people). What more could a girl want?
D. started "Big Boy" school this week (a.k.a. public kindergarten) that goes all day. He is really adjusting beautifully but, boy howdy is it an adjustment for us all. He is exhausted at the end of the day and I really do miss him being with me all afternoon. I just have to say, though, that me in the car rider lane on the first day was pretty funny. I had NO IDEA what I was doing and people who have been doing this little procedure all year are all pulling up to The Designated Spot That Everyone Knows About Except Me and jumping out, grabbing a child--any child-- and hopping back in and zooming off. I should have had Tonia time me with a stop watch so I can have a baseline on which to improve. My measure of success was having a kid in my back seat that happened to be mine. I think we're off to a good start.
Heel shots. No, this is not something you do at a bar; rather, it is a fun little process you go through on a doctor's table as he comes at you with a needle squirting out heaven only knows what kinda liquid (turns out to be Cortisone). I apparently have Plantar Faciitis on the heel of my right foot and, folks, it sho' is painful. Besides hobblin' like a little ol' lady after sleeping or sitting for a long period of time, it has crawled up the back of my leg to compensate for me only using the ball of my foot. Good times. Going to the airport tomorrow and touring numerous hotels in the greater Baltimore area for a couple days. My timing is IMPECCABLE. I'm so proud of my special gift in that area.
OK, it's 2a.m. folks and I'm not going to even tell you what time we're heading to the airport in the morning (cough, 6am) so I'd better sign off.
If I haven't completely lost my entire lot of readers with my negligence, please say "hello." I'm not brave enough to call for a total Reader Delurking (calling out all those readers who read but don't comment)...you know, it's the same fear as planning a party and no one showing up...but I would like to hear from you if you get a sec.
Hope all is well wherever you are. I'm gonna hobble my hobblin' self downstairs and pack. Er, I mean get in the bed.