Every once in a blue moon, usually when the house has just crossed into the qualifying-for-federal-disaster-relief territory, I get a short-lived but strong impulse to act domesticated. This morning, I showered before my husband even left for work, then got all four of my monkeys dressed and out the door before 9am. To go grocery shopping, as I am a hero. They were so well-behaved that a kind woman commented at the checkout on their loveliness. I took big boy to the doctor to get an official asthma diagnosis, came home and made lunch, then put the twins down and cleaned for 1.5 hours straight. Which is probably 1.25 hours more than I've put in total in the past 2 months. It's still not CLEAN, exactly, but you can walk through every downstairs room and could actually eat at our dining room table. Oh, which reminds me, I also started dinner. AND, most miraculous of all, I'm in a calm peaceful happy mood (knock on wood) after all of that. If only being Barbara Billingsley was fun on a day-by-day basis and not just every once in a while.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
see, those little red pills ARE amazing!
Ha! Way to go.
Speaking of pills, I have an uncle who once doped my grandmother with what she later called "ironing pills."
"I don't know what he gave me," she told me later, "but whatever they were, they sure helped me out with the ironing!"
Post a Comment