My prediction?

The Colts.

And I hope I'm right -- but if not, I'll be happy for the Saints. How's that for diplomacy?

Apparently my notes to self don't work.

Do you remember the Sharpie that I may or may not have put through the wash with a HUGE load of clothes? And how I reminded myself to check pockets? (Because, yes, I may have ruined a sweet little sleeper of Will's.)

Well, I forgot.

Load #2: I was unloading the dryer, and this fell out:

Thank goodness it survived its ride through the washer. Caroline, who picked it out, all by herself, while her mother bit her tongue (as in, I bit my tongue, not Caroline's), would be really sad if it died.

Load #3: I pretreated a batch of cloth napkins, burp cloths, and some hand towels, put in the detergent, and some bleach, and then went down right before supper to iron the clean napkins. And discovered that I'd never turned the washer on.

And then I stopped doing laundry for the day, because obviously, I wasn't doing such a hot job. My laundry mountain is shorter now, but not by much.


This is pretty much the only activity around our house today. The girls have been reading books with Pokey, and Pokey's been holding Will, and the girls have been playing with Poppy, and Poppy's been holding Will. That's about it. Can you tell Pokey melts around her grandchildren?


And this is the beauty that is outside. I love it.

Check your pockets.

My parents are coming in tonight for an impromptu visit. That means that, by supper time, I really should:

attack the mountain of laundry upstairs


run to the grocery store
make a pie crust or two
bake bread
clean the house
cook supper

And during that time, I'll have to face all kinds of distractions. Like:
and:

(If you've ever seen a cuter baby boy than this one, I don't want to hear it, because you're lying.)

And the three kids together: No wonder I never get anything done.

And, while I'm dealing with all my distractions, I need to remember to check pockets before washing clothes. Because it would be pretty bad if I did a huge load of laundry and then found this as I was loading the dryer:

I would never do anything this stupid. Right?

Right?

While we're talking about language...

Caroline talks a lot about the past and the future, and she has specific (and consistent) ways in which she does this.

To describe something that has already happened, she says, "Last night a year ago..." As in, "Did you make me a cake for my birthday last night a year ago?"

To describe something that's going to happen, she says, "Sometime on Thursday..."

Just so you have a heads-up, that's what those phrases mean. Every once in a while, Bob gets confused and says something like, "Did you tell Caroline we're going to Chicago on Thursday?" And I say, "No, did she tell you that? ... Oh wait. I'm sure I told her we'd go to Chicago some time soon. To her, that's on Thursday." The little goober.

She does like to read, so perhaps she picked this up in the sports section.

Stupor

In most ways, Caroline is like Bob. For example, she smells everything. Everything. It really grosses me out, but Bob is her champion in this. We have senses for a reason! We should use them!, he says.

But when she wakes up, she's a bit like me. If Bob talks to me about something when he's leaving for work in the morning (and I'm still in bed, mostly asleep), I will often respond like I know what I'm talking about. But I have no memory of it afterward.

Caroline, however, is just in her own zone when she wakes up. It's best to give her space so she can enter the world of the living in her own sweet time.

Anyway, Friday afternoon, I had to wake her up from her nap because we were going to meet Bob's mom for supper at the Olive Garden. I woke her up, knowing I would incur her wrath just by rousing her. So I quickly followed up "It's time to get up" with "We're going out to eat with Nena! At the Olive Garden!" She thought that through, and then remembered that the Olive Garden is next to a car wash that she loves.

But since she'd just awakened, she did not possess the ability to sort through her collection of nouns and come up with the appropriate ones. So she said, "Are we going to go see that thing with that thing in that thing?" And I, knowing exactly what she was talking about, because I AM HER MOTHER, said, "Yes, honey. We are."

Oh my goodness, I love my kids.

Frazzled.

Last night, Lucy was having a rough time. She was asleep, but then Caroline woke her up, and she has a hard time going back to sleep. I went in and comforted her, but she wouldn't stop crying when I left, so I got her some more milk.

Then she woke up around midnight, and again, there was no pacifying. I decided to just her cry it out, but Bob proposed letting her sleep with us. Oh boy. As soon as she got in bed with us (and the two cats) (in a double bed), she decided it was time to play and giggle and touch my eyelids and roll around. I was starting to get really annoyed, so Bob proposed that he go sleep on the couch. I didn't really see how that would fix anything except for Bob, so I nixed that.

Ultimately, Bob put her down in a different room, but with another cup of milk. She finally fell asleep.

Then Caroline fell out of bed and woke up wailing. I went in and held her for a bit, consoled her, and then tucked her back in.

Then Will woke up a time or two. I shouldn't complain because he sleeps through the night EVERY night, but still, I could have used a quiet night from him.

This morning, the girls dumped a huge load of blocks all over the house, I'm waiting to hear back from my doctor's office on whether or not they need to see me (I think I have an infection), or if they can just call in a prescription, I have an upholsterer coming to give me quotes on redoing a chair and couch (and, while we're at it, maybe the dining room chairs, and some cushions for the window seat?), and I really should shower. But if I'm in the shower, will I miss the call back from the doctor? I think it's worth the risk.

Good grief. May naptime come quickly--

Speaking of naptime, Caroline fell asleep on her sleeping bag during naptime yesterday. And when I say on her sleeping bag, I mean while it was still in its stuff sack. Crazy kid.

Pet Peeves

FYI: I started this post when pregnant with Will. I'd like to be clear with you all that I'm not pregnant.

I hope this post doesn't come across as too negative, but I've noticed lately that I have a lot of pet peeves. I would like to think that this is pregnancy-related and these little things won't bother me after the end of August. We'll see...

Here's the list. It's not comprehensive, which is sad. I guess I have a lot.

• cars not parked straight in our driveway
• not unloading the dish drainer before stacking wet dishes on top of dry
• the word "potty"
• phrases like "go bye-bye," "go night-night," and "go potty"
• being called "Mommy"
  
• people telling my children I have a baby "in my belly." It's not. I've been clear with Caroline that there's a baby in my womb. I know this isn't a big deal, but I'd prefer to be a little more accurate. Someone I know was told (as a child) that the baby comes out of Mommy's bottom, and this person was grossed out for at least a decade until that was straightened out. Nasty, nasty.
• toilet seats left in the upright position
• mayonnaise. Does it have to be a staple of all sandwiches? ... because I can't stand it! (Well, I'm not all that cracked up about sandwiches in general, but with mayo, I won't touch them.)
• people who leave their shopping carts loose in the parking lot
• people who park across lane lines and take up two spots
• packages being opened incorrectly (like upside down, or when a resealable container is damaged, so it's no longer resealable)
• typos (though of course, I create typos, too)
• Craigslist listings that use the word "beautiful" in the heading. Sorry, that's not descriptive enough for me.
  
• Winter.
• Cats that scratch furniture. (Ahem, Katie & Janie.)
  

Perhaps I should loosen up a little?

Update: Um, I guess it's not pregnancy-related. These still annoy me.