-I wash my hair twice a day. You read that correctly. Twice. Every. Single. Day. I realize that this goes against every piece of advice that the hair gods have ever given me. My hair squeaks it is so clean. It is also dry and breaks easily, but at least it is clean.
-My days have been reduced to saying check after everything I do.
Make lunches. Check.
Argue with Layton about why he cannot go to school sans pants. Check.
Coerce the sloth-like oldest child to get out of bed. Check.
Drop off all the children and experience 5 minutes of freedom on the drive to work. Check.
Just try to keep my head above water at work while making it look like I have my monstrous desk under control. Check.
Eat complex carbohydrates and trans fat at lunch. Check.
Hate myself for eating complex carbohydrates and trans fat at lunch. Check.
Get in the first of three car lines. Check.
Spend an hour and a half fighting through car line traffic, while secretly giving the finger to parents who don't follow car line etiquette, while attempting to keep which ever children are already in the car quiet, waving at the traffic attendant while actually calling him/her an acehole under my breath, stop at every single traffic light in town while navigating between three schools. Check
People, I could drive to Nashville or Birmingham in the amount of time it takes me to get home with my three children after school. The school that is the farthest from our home is Ella Channing's. It is a whopping 4.82 miles from my house, yet I spend an hour and a half trying to get home every day.
Have emotional breakdown because my children are "not touching" and screaming about it. Check.
Remind Layton that putting his foot in Ella Channing's face while squealing, "I'm not kicking you" is not the best behavior in the car. Check.
Wonder why no one has invented a nifty swatter thingy that I could use to simultaneously hold the steering wheel with my left hand while beating the children with the swatter in my right hand. Check.
Call patent attorney. Hell, I'll do that tomorrow.
Give J a hello hug when he gets home from work. Check.
Make an effort to remember what is on the calender. No check. I have to actually look at it.
Just hang on until bedtime. Check.
Get in the bed and congratulate myself for surviving another day without committing a felony. Check.
-Do you read Grass Stains? I do and love it. I'd like to think that some of my random thoughts and observations are almost as cool as her Uncomfortable Truths. I said almost.
-I'm eagerly anticipating Fall weather. I'm ready for boots.
-My days have been reduced to saying check after everything I do.
Make lunches. Check.
Argue with Layton about why he cannot go to school sans pants. Check.
Coerce the sloth-like oldest child to get out of bed. Check.
Drop off all the children and experience 5 minutes of freedom on the drive to work. Check.
Just try to keep my head above water at work while making it look like I have my monstrous desk under control. Check.
Eat complex carbohydrates and trans fat at lunch. Check.
Hate myself for eating complex carbohydrates and trans fat at lunch. Check.
Get in the first of three car lines. Check.
Spend an hour and a half fighting through car line traffic, while secretly giving the finger to parents who don't follow car line etiquette, while attempting to keep which ever children are already in the car quiet, waving at the traffic attendant while actually calling him/her an acehole under my breath, stop at every single traffic light in town while navigating between three schools. Check
People, I could drive to Nashville or Birmingham in the amount of time it takes me to get home with my three children after school. The school that is the farthest from our home is Ella Channing's. It is a whopping 4.82 miles from my house, yet I spend an hour and a half trying to get home every day.
Have emotional breakdown because my children are "not touching" and screaming about it. Check.
Remind Layton that putting his foot in Ella Channing's face while squealing, "I'm not kicking you" is not the best behavior in the car. Check.
Wonder why no one has invented a nifty swatter thingy that I could use to simultaneously hold the steering wheel with my left hand while beating the children with the swatter in my right hand. Check.
Call patent attorney. Hell, I'll do that tomorrow.
Give J a hello hug when he gets home from work. Check.
Make an effort to remember what is on the calender. No check. I have to actually look at it.
Just hang on until bedtime. Check.
Get in the bed and congratulate myself for surviving another day without committing a felony. Check.
-Do you read Grass Stains? I do and love it. I'd like to think that some of my random thoughts and observations are almost as cool as her Uncomfortable Truths. I said almost.
-I'm eagerly anticipating Fall weather. I'm ready for boots.
-I listen to 90s on 9 sometimes. The other morning this was on:
Ahhhh, Nelson. I met them once. Gunnar smelled nice. That is the extent of my Nelson knowledge. Carry on.
-Did I mention the head shot thing? I don't think I have mentioned it on the blog. I had to have a head shot made for work. It was the single most cruel thing I have ever experienced. Don't get me wrong. Amy Boston Photography was fabulous. It was all me. I do not like having my picture made. Period. I feel very, very uncomfortable in front of a camera. I was sweating and nervous and that translated into twice as much make up as was necessary. Amy had to remind me to breathe. Then, like a crazed ex-girlfriend, I begged her co-photographer to make the memory card malfunction and to make it look like Crayola had not gang banged my face. There is no way I won't post a link to the picture once it is up. It will be so embarrassing that I will have to share it.
-I hope you all have a great weekend! I have a busy weekend planned and cannot wait to get it going!
