Is it Friday yet?

You know you are having a bad morning (and rubbing it off all over your family) when your spouse turns to you and says, "Hey, when are you going to be done nursing so that you can start taking antidepressants?"

An Original Title, at least

Can you tell that I read Barren Mare? I didn't realize that I totally stole her blog entry title. Oops. Sorry, Mare! I know that bloggers are generally pretty good about sharing words (especially when it's a title for a bunch of thoughts strung together...). My brain has just been so mushy that I didn't realize I had used the exact title until I clicked over there this morning to see what was new.

I am looking forward to this weekend. First, we will pick up our new car tomorrow (it got delayed from Wednesday). And we got a great rate on the loan (woot!). Then, tomorrow afternoon we will be heading over to a party to celebrate the engagement of an old friend. She has lived far, far away for such a long time that I hardly ever get to see her. But you know how sometimes you find those people in life that you can be out of touch with for a VERY long time, and then when you talk again it's as if no time has passed? No one asks, "why didn't you call?". She is that kind of friend. I can't wait to see her and meet her man.

Sunday, I plan to do a little laundry (I know, too exciting.) and work on SC's birthday invitations. I found a bunch of small rose colored cards with matching envelopes on clearance. I'm just going to print the innards (perhaps right on the card- I need to run one through the printer to see if I like it) and then do something simple on the outside. But I do feel the need to create the cards. Yes, I'm crazy.

Ok- too much to do today and it's already after 10. Gah! Hope you all have a lovely weekend.

Snippets

I have been so lax about posting and so much has been happening that I feel like I could never quite catch up. So, to bring everyone up to speed, I figured I’d do another one of those bit and pieces posts.

• Gabriel will be moving up to the preschool room at his daycare at the end of the month. Preschool! It completely boggles my mind (but he is also completely ready for it...I have been worried that his verbal skills are suffering as he becomes the oldest kid in his room).
  
  
• SC, speaking of verbal skills, has been talking for the past two months. Yes, that means that she said her first words at eight months. We now have dada, mama, dog, Gabriel (as gay-bwel), and va (which is her word for nursing...not sure why, but it’s definitely a consistent, meaningful word for her). She also signs “more” or will bang on the table like a barbarian when food is not being presented quickly enough. And she parrots lots of things in conversation. Gabriel was saying, “Stop that!” the other day and when he stopped, I could hear her saying, “top daa, top daa.”
  
  
• She is also crawling and cruising, pulling up on every surface in the house. Oh, and stairs are no biggie. She went from the back room to the kitchen (only two stairs, but still) without even blinking.
  
  
• Mr. D’s new job seems to be going well, so far. He really likes the people and the place. The commuting is still a bit rough around the edges, but it’s coming into place. I drop off and pick up the kids and he gets home before us to start dinner and do household stuff (except laundry- he’s not allowed to touch the laundry).
  
  
• We finally went car shopping this past weekend and, to our surprise, made a purchase. We got a Kia Rondo. It looks just like a really tiny minivan and was obviously created by Mary Poppins’ bag designers (small outside and huge inside). We opted for the five-passenger configuration because the third row seating would be completely useless for us (it’s only good for kids or adult amputees, and in the interest of saving gas, why tote around extra weight unnecessarily?). The gas mileage is not as high as we would have liked, but it was the best we could get for the space we needed and the price we were able to pay. But we are quite satisfied (I’ll give you a better report after we get the car on Wednesday).

Those are the highlights du jour. Toodles!

My Kid, the Sculptor

This is one of those posts that I can pull out when Gabe is going on his first date. Or to the prom. Or some other teen-angst inspiring event.

We are still working (slowly) on the potty training. So, on the weekends we tend to run a pants-free household. And 99% of the time, the pee goes in the potty. That other stuff? Well, someone (and I won't name names) tends to save that until nap time when the diaper is donned again. Small steps. Small steps.

This past weekend, the weather was lovely (unlike the previous weekend when psychotic storms ripped the freakin' roof off of the screen gazebo--yikes). So, pants-free Saturday began. As I sipped my coffee, Gabe found that the Candyland board made a perfect Sodor Island, with many multicolored tracks for Thomas and all of his friends. He was sooooo terribly excited. I was almost done imbibing the nectar of the gawds when I noticed that Gabe sounded a bit frantic--more whiny than normal (don't get me started on the whine levels lately...they peel paint). I looked over and noticed something along these lines on the Candyland board:
Except in three dimensions. Yeah, that was on the board and also on the hands of my lovely, sensitive son who tried to clean up a bit before sounding the alarm.

It really would have been a shitty morning except that it was so incredibly funny.

My first mistake...

...was trusting the bus schedule.

I had one of the most horrific mornings on record. I had high hopes that it would be a good one when I actually felt rested upon waking. I haven't felt that way in a long time. Really long. I promptly found an outfit that (a) fit and (b) was clean. I even went so far as to iron my pants, a task I normally ignore fervently. Then, I left the house for work, sans kids (Mr.D was dealing with them today- one less obstacle in my path).

Traffic was a bit heavy but not terrible. I made it to my new parking lot by 8:10 and considered my options for the bus to work. I decided that since the bus on the quiet, scenic back street is scheduled to come at 8:15 (and had done so the previous day) that I would wait for that one. I had plenty of time to get to my office.

A quick glance at my watch at 8:18 left me wondering where the bus might be. Should I proceed to the stop two blocks away where many buses pass? No, I knew that as soon as I walked away, this bus would pass. A few more minutes ticked away. At 8:29, I saw a broken bus limping down the road with "GARAGE" displayed overhead. Well, I thought, that must be the 8:15 bus. I'm not crazy, it obviously broke down.

Please note that most other people would have LONG AGO left this bus stop for an alternate.

I decided upon seeing the broken bus that I would, in fact, go to the alternate stop. About halfway there, guess what passed me? Go on. Guess.

I managed to catch the %$#!&% bus two stops later because the traffic was a bit congested. The bus was packed to the gills, and I was left standing right next to the driver. No matter--I thought--I'm only going a mile (and here is where you get to ask my sorry ass why I didn't just walk to work). When we were just two blocks shy of my stop? The bus broke down.

I silently screamed, stepped off of the bus, and walked to my office. In the time it took me to stand around and ride a broken bus, I could have walked there twice.

I am an idiot.