I am beat. I have just about finished picking up the house and them I am going to make myself an over-the-top sundae (Moose Tracks ice cream, bananas, hot fudge, whipped cream, and a cherry — or three — on top). Do I need the extra calories? I most certainly do not, and I know I shouldn’t be pulling the “well I deserve it” card, but you know what? I want it, and I deserve it. Noah decided that 4:15 was an acceptable time to rise this morning, so both Drew and I have been up since. Because I had no choice, I went to the grocery store to get fresh produce and dairy for the week. We are currently in the “can’t take Noah anywhere” phase; five minutes in any store and he goes nuts — crying, screaming, wanting to walk, nay, RUN everywhere. It just doesn’t work anymore. Jake went through it and I know it will pass, but for now we’ll have to figure out a new shopping routine.
And it was basically just one of those days. I was trying to get a good bit of writing done today and all Hell was breaking loose: strawberries smooshed into the carpet (thank goodness for Resolve carpet cleaner — I should own stock it in), jumping on the bed, crayons everywhere. Of course I tried to stop each and every incident, but my two adoring sons now know how to gang up on their mother. I am in serious, serious trouble.
Anyway. It was one of those days. And sometimes those days require ice cream. And then promptly falling asleep. Zzzz.