(Published on Thursday, because a day late and several dollars short is how I roll.)
This post is going to be a hodge-podge of thoughts. I have a hundred posts inside my head but can’t find the focus I need to get them all down. (Lucky for you.) I am so very, very, very distractable. I’m like Dug from UP only my “Squirrel!” is blogging! Facebook! Candy Crush! Cheetos!
In truth, I probably prefer Doritos.
And plus my life (not to be confused with your life) is crazy busy. It’s crazy good and just plain crazy. Crazy.
(The more that I type the word crazy, the more crazy it looks and sounds.)
Hodge-Podge of Thoughts I: A Baby Boy and a Blanket from Barbara
This is the quilt that Barbara sent:
(not to be confused with the house that Jack built)
I absolutely love this cheerful quilt and am in awe of Barbara’s wicked crazy sewing talent. (Same goes for Charlotte. Same goes for Jenn.) I would love to be able to sew & knit like them, though I’ve “knit” seven babies and that’s no small thing.
“You know where this baby came from?” I asked Angela this morning.
“No,” I told her. “He came from the love of your mommy & daddy.”
(She’s eight. I’ll tell her the rest of the story later.)
Hodge-Podge of Thoughts II: Drips & Nick & Older Siblings
15-year-old Joe has been amusing. Being the oldest of seven (!) kids, Joe is extremely comfortable around babies. This is not to say, however, that he is “in the know” all the time. For example, Joe had just changed one of Nick’s saggy-baggies and he (Baby Nickers) was lying happily on the changing table. Peering down at his little face, Joe announced (loudly, to no one in particular), “He has no teeth.”
Or how about this one? I noticed something red on the baby’s head. “Did Nicholas cut himself somehow?” I asked in alarm. Joe leaned over and took a great big sniff.
“It’s spaghetti sauce,” he announced.
And then I remembered. An episode of LOST; a nursing baby; an errant splash of marinara.
Embarrassing, isn’t it? I dripped sauce on my kid’s head.
Hodge-Podge of Thoughts III: Way vs. Weigh
So here’s a picture of my scale from yesterday morning:
(I actually saw 133 this morning…and then I put on my sports bra and the weight bumped back up.)
(Really? It’s a sports bra!)
So yeah, I’m about twenty pounds from where I’d “like” to be but you
know what? It’s all good. I have eyes that can see, ears that can hear,
and two legs that know where the treadmill is...should they choose to take me there.
Also, if you need proof of my crazy busy life, just look closely at my toes. Only three of them are painted, see? Because I changed my mind about that shade of blue and then—of course—I got distracted.
By a plate of spaghetti.
And an episode of LOST.