Sunday, February 10, 2008

Much Better


Yes! I got my relaxing morning yesterday, thank you for asking! And, thanks to my sweet birthday-wish-granting husband, it was wonderful! Can't you just feel the relaxation emanating from the photo above? I bet you can. Sorry that I'm not actually in the photo; relaxation comes with a price, and that price includes wrinkled pj's, bed-head, and the absence of makeup.

But that's OK! Because later in the day, after sleeping in (post-5:45-a.m.-nursing, of course), drinking two large mugs of very strong, perfectly creamy coffee while reading the latest issue of The Atlantic and part of the new book I got for my birthday, and, eventually, going for a great run in a sudden snowstorm (oops!)---well, I washed my hair, got all pretty, and went to a multi-family pizza party at the home of one of our playgroup families, where I was surprised with a birthday cake complete with lit candles AND singing. So! The perfect day! Sleep, coffee, magazines, running, good grooming, no cooking, cake. Does it get any better?

Oh! And for my birthday, Christopher gave me the cutest pair of shoes you've ever seen! Aren't they? Don't they look just about perfect for a spring full of preschool drop-offs and a summer full of chasing a 4-year-old and an almost-2-year-old at the playground every day? While still looking kind of cute? I think so. Unfortunately they're a half-size too big so I'm awaiting a shipped exchange. Let's hope the smaller size fits because! They're so cute!

In the end, it's a good thing that yesterday was so relaxing. Because today we're beset by some sort of crazy arctic windstorm, we're out of groceries so someone has to brave the forty-below-zero windchill to hit the supermarket, and between the four of us this week, we've got two dentist appointments, two doctor appointments, two ECFE classes, preschool volunteering, and....I'm sure I'm forgetting something. Like, oh, I don't know, numerous screaming tantrums and things like that. Because, you know, Vivi doesn't care that I'm a year closer to forty and therefore need everyone to, rather than scream my name nonstop for 45 minutes during nap, instead be extra nice to me and tell me that my wrinkles look lovely.

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