Hello all! Reporting in again with antics from my life, for those who care to read such things. Yesterday afternoon my mind was all awhirl with recipes, plans for my upcoming 10 day real food pledge (slated to begin tomorrow), and stuff I had to do around the house. I left work a bit early to do a few errands on my way home. Given that my mind was awhirl (see supra), it wasn't exactly a huge surprise to get out to my car and realize that:
(a) I had forgotten my knitting bag to work on my project at home, despite it being placed atop my desk as a reminder, and
(b) I had forgotten to change from my work shoes back to my boots. I do this twice a day, every day, and yet...I forgot.
My life could be written up in a dissertation entitled: The Aging Brain: A Study in Futility.
First, I stopped at the mall. I had a lovely gift card to Teavana from my birthday, and I wanted to explore some new herbal teas in my quest to eliminate artificial sweeteners. One intense and expensive (thank God for that gift card :0) interaction later, I emerged with a big bag. I am now the proud owner of an infuser teapot for loose tea, and 3 small canisters of herbals to try out, and if you know me at all, dear reader, you would know that these flavors had "Catholic Librarian!" written all over them:
Caramel Almond Amaretti
Chocolate Bananas Foster
CocoCaramel Sea Salt
I mean, did you ever? I'm so thrilled. I can drink these without any sweetening whatsoever. They are already happily ensconced in my office.
I wasn't at the mall nearly as long as I thought, so I had time to pop by JoAnn's on my way home. I needed buttons for Mike's cardigan, because THAT BABY IS OFF THE NEEDLES!!! It is DONE! Well, almost. The pieces are knit and blocked, but they have to be seamed together.
*long suffering sigh*
I hate seaming. But there is light at the end of the tunnel! So, buttons. I needed 5. I had previously asked Mike what color he would like the buttons to be:
"Ok Honey, but the sweater IS navy blue. Wouldn't you like a coordinating contrast? Gray? Tan? Maybe go wild and crazy and get, oh I don't know, light brown?"
"Brown?" *look of horror* "Navy blue, please."
And so I stopped at JoAnn's and got the plainest, most boring navy blue buttons you can possibly imagine. They were so bland they cost $1 per 3 button package, the least expensive buttons in the display. For a woman who usually buys handpainted buttons shaped like acorns or alpacas this was difficult to do. I brought them home to show Mike.
"These are PERFECT!"
I knew it.
Mike made dinner, dear soul that he is, mustard chicken with rice, and the children gamely ate some of it amidst cries of "What is *that red thing*? A pepper! GROSS!" Kitchen clean up followed, and then Mike left for an audition to a community play he was interested in. I got the kids ready for bed, and wrangled Anne into her crib, no easy feat these days.
"Mommy read me a story!" "Mommy I need my *pink* blanket!" "Mommy can I sleep with Teddy?" "Mommy, I don't want Ernie in my crib!!"
And finally, the piece de resistance:
"Ok Honey, I'm blowing you a kiss, good night!"
"Mommy, I have to go potty."
Finally, she is taken care of and settled. I grab a shower while Henry watches Regular Show. I get dried off and jammied up, and plead guilty to watching an episode of Regular Show with Henry and enjoying it. It is now Henry's bedtime.
"Ok Honey, go brush your teeth."
"Mommy, my toothbrush is all gross and ready to be replaced. Could you go up and get me the new red lightsaber one I got for Christmas?"
"Why can't you go upstairs and get it?"
"I have to go pee." *halo*
I trudge upstairs, wondering why we don't impose a 6 pm bedtime on days when Mommy is especially tired. :0 As I walk down the darkened hallway to the upstairs bathroom, which lies immediately beside Anne's bedroom, my foot painfully hits something. A swear word passes my lips as I realize I am powerless to stop the subsequent loud BANG! against the adjacent radiator.
Mr. Potato's Books.
Has she lost her mind, what is she talking about?! I am referring to this little ritual that Anne has devised. Every day, she insists that she has to leave this pile of hardcover books right in the entryway to the upstairs bathroom "for Mr. Potato." Mr. Potato is a character in the fabulous British cartoon Peppa Pig. She loves him. And she leaves books for him. In the bathroom. I'm not sure if Mr. Potato is supposed to *read* them, or manifest on them, or what. But everyday she makes this pile. And now I have knocked them over, injured my foot, and they have banged loudly against the radiator almost immediately outside Anne's door. I swear again, just for good measure.
I grab Henry's new toothbrush and hurry downstairs. As I'm readying his asthma medicine for the night, I hear it: the sound of a monologue coming from Anne's room. My little escapade in the bathroom woke her up.
WHY HAS GOD ABANDONED ME?!
I hustle Henry upstairs, forcing him to tiptoe up the stairs all crazy the way I do, to avoid the squeaky spots in the floor. I get him in his room and read him the story of St. Patrick as he gets into bed, our nightly saint ritual. He reads an excerpt out of one of his St. Joseph picture books aloud, as is also our custom. He's currently reading about Padre Pio.
As I tiptoe out of Hank's room, I press my ear to Anne's door. All is quiet. God loves me again.
I go downstairs to await Mike's return. As he pulls into the driveway, I am waiting with a big glass of wine. :)
ANDDDDDDD, that was my evening! How was yours?