During my time at home sick, I decided to read about unsolved mysteries. Now I can't sleep at night.
Hey, day care people who say that my 3 1/2 year old isn't "required" to take a nap, but she is required to lay on a mat for two hours...you are the reason she wakes up at 2, 4 and 6 a.m. And your refusal to change your policy makes me want to call you...at 2, 4 and 6 a.m. to give you the opportunity to rethink your stance. Or at least to keep me company.
The fact that the Rachel Ray audience applauds her while she cooks freaks me out.
I would trade one of my kidneys to have a housekeeper.
My hair is going through an "awkward phase" that resembles Fred Savage's character from the Wonder Years. This phase is made even more awkward by the fact that I shared the previous comparison with a co-worker and he informed me the Wonder Years was "before his time." So I'm old AND I have bad hair.
It also cracks my co-workers up that I used to own a beeper and didn't send an email till I was in my 20s.
I'm trying to bribe myself into cleaning up the house by promising myself a bubble bath beforehand. It's kind of working.
My STBX told me that I am petty and vain because I won't give him a free iPhone. I think I might never be in another romantic relationship because I picked such a rotten one this time.
My mentor at work told me that I can't be mad at love just because I got "bad customer service."
I love Valentine socks and wear them all year round.
Lola (the almost 2 year old) talks so that her mouth makes funny shapes, like a character from South Park. I love it.
I want to start taking walks with the kids on the days that I'm home for dinner. But I either have to push a double stroller and wear one, like a pack animal, or run the risk of Abbey and Lola darting into traffic.
I could sleep for a week at any given moment. Well, I could if someone would solve that dang unsolved mystery.
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