Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Chronicle of a Homemaker

I would call it "Chronicles of a Homemaker" but I'm too relaxed (lazy) to write more than one.

It's totally stressful to get my to-do list (DVR list) completed during nap time, but, don't doubt my commitment to getting it done.  I'm watching The Bachelorette like a maniac right now.

Let me just say that Juan Pablo speaks wisdom.  He's just a simple guy looking for someone to share "the little things" with, in his words.  Thank you, ABC, you made me stop and think about appreciating the small things (like Juan Pablo's....nice.....accent).

Let me point out that the to-do list does include dishes and laundry but I added eating peach cobbler just because I'm an overachiever.  You're welcome.  Or, actually, I'm welcome.

I still need to detail the makings of said cobbler, but the eating of the cobbler has made me sleepy and lazy so I'll leave you on the edge of you seat.  OR I'll just use short phrases to re-cap.  (I forgot what this is called and Google seems to have eaten the same amount of cobbler I did because it was of no help AT ALL when I googled "writing with verb phrases", which I'm not even sure these are called.  (I just solved the mystery of the missing cobbler.  I blamed my husband but it turns out Google is a sneaky biotch.))

Knife slipping.  Peach juice dripping.  Pie crust crumbling.  Toddler playing.  Toddler running.  Pans piling.  Toddler clinging.  Time slowing.  Peaches baking.  Mommy eating.  A Lot.

I made myself leave just the tiniest bit of cobbler for my husband.  It's addictive, so that was a feat.

Back to the to-do.

Cheers.

PS-I hope you aren't looking for actual substance on this blog.  You have to read my book to get that.
PPS-I don't have a book.  JOKE'S ON YOU!

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

10 Year, 10 Schmear

My last post occurred right before the tornadoes hit Oklahoma.  I blogged about nonsense, closed my computer and then turned on the TV to watch as the huge, destructive tornado destroyed Moore.

Ironic.

You know what else is ironic?  Attending one's high school reunion.  (and also that high school is two words.)  I felt like I was getting ready for the first day of school.  I had a panic attack over what to wear like nothing I've seen for at least 12 years, well, since the first day of 7th grade.  (I'm exaggerating.  I wasn't that worried over my outfit, but I had no idea what to expect.  First day of 7th, on the other hand.  THAT is no exaggeration my friend.  7th grade is no joke, either; talk about anxiety.)  The good news is that I survived and even enjoyed the event.  I had no awkward encounters, which stems solely from the fact that I dated people in the grade ahead.  As discussing this fact with an old friend, I added this piece of important advice to the list handed down from my mom, to be handed down to baby girl: Don't date in your own class so as to make the class reunions less awkward.

This advice follows "Don't forget it's really slick right after it starts raining" and also "If you get kidnapped, let your kidnapper shoot you before getting into the car with them."  Terrifying, right?

I ended up posting nonsense again.  I hope posting nonsense doesn't always lead to horrific natural disasters.

I'm scared to turn on the TV now.

I'm being forced to read.

i.e. eat cobbler (which, in itself is another post, as far as how this cobbler came into being)

Cheers