Oh my GRANNY was that fun or what?
Well it was for me, y'all! Thank you to so so so many of you who said Hi when it's the last thing you felt comfortable doing, or the last thing you had time for. You have brightened not one, not two but THREE days for me just by reading and leaving me a little piece of you. So thank you. My heart is all full-up now. I still have a few comments and emails to respond to, and I will get to them soon! If you are not hearing from me, it's either A) because I responded and my response went to your spam folder. I'm happy there because as we all know, I love Spam, but come get me, okay? or B) I didn't have a way to contact you because you're all anonymous and stuff.
I loved hearing from you. I did!
(You could do it again sometime now that you've seen how easy it is, right?)
So this week is recklessly busy for me. And by recklessly busy, I mean, probably as busy as your weeks ALWAYS are, but I'm a woman who needs a lot of margin, time-wise and brain-wise, to get it all done right and maintain at least a superficial air of calm; and margin? Oh heck no, ma'am, we don't got any margin this week. Fresh out and the truck ain't due again 'til next Tuesdee. So there will be mistakes and stuff forgotten and then there'll be me, beating myself up internally, which means, (oh yeah, THAT) possibly an emotional outburst or two.
Oh who'm I kiddin', there's already been one of those. Today, when Peabody didn't want his diaper changed and his pajamas taken off and clothes put on, so he screeched and whined and cried and then? When I got him halfway undressed, I took my hands off of him for JUST ONE SECOND. I mean JUST A SINGLE ITTYBITTY SECOND, he whipped his lightening-quick hands around and grabbed his FULLY-LOADED diaper, ripped it out from under his adorable teeny bun-buns and deposited it, face down, with a sickening thud, on the carpet.
At which point my entire psyche pecked a feee-yur-eeee-ous hole in my skull and leapt out of my head with a blood-curdling holler, and I launched into a verbal tirade that had Bean standing in Peabody's second-story bedroom doorway staring at me with her jaw all the way downstairs in the basement next to the hot-water heater. I hope she remembered to go get it before we all ran out the front door creatin' a frantic pink, blue and poopy blur-streak from our house down to the bus stop, because just imagine trying to explain why you're bringin' your kid's mandible in to the school office in a brown paper sack at 9:15 on a Wednesday morning?
"Well you see, I ...."
"What happened was ..."
"Do you see this poop on my shoe? It all started with this poop and then I ..."
"Oh forget it. Just take this bag to Bean FriedOkra in Mrs. Peppidge's room, okay? I found it in the basement. I have TOLD HER she needed to do a better job of keeping up with her things!"
Anyway yeah. Busy.
How's your week goin'?