It's really hard to think of things to say here when I get out of the habit of writing.
I'm tired from too little sleep. Growing fat from too many eats. Deleriously happy from being in love. Marriage is lots of fun.
Also, I am learning to golf. Rather, I am learning how Not to swing a golf club. It seems cruely wrong that smaking a tiny white ball should be so technical. I suck at it.
Now that I'm not a welfare mom anymore, I drive a BMW, and golf. Tim bought me my own clubs and a glove-thingy to wear. I look like Michael Jackson, armed with a club.
I have four kids now. Have you heard? Bedtime is my favorite time of day. The oldest and youngest go to bed about 9:30, and the middle two have lights-out at 10. Ten O'clock is when I pour a glass of wine, and put on my music. From the time my feet hit the floor in the morning, until the kids retire, I am mostly running. Well, except now, since I am blogging. I'd actually like a nap, but I can't sqeeze it in.
I came upstairs to make Michael's bed and clean his room. See how I got derailed at the computer? Michael is least capable of keeping his room clean. It's quite a distinction around here.
I'd better get back to it.
1 comment:
o.k here's what i want to know....when does monday funday start anyway? and in the spirit of rhyming i thought we should kick it off with lunch at bardeNAY?? Yes?
p.s. make that boy make his own dang bed!! if i can train casey to do it anything is possible. :)
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