Now you're paying attention aren't you? I'm on a reading week at school and that means that I am not in class but frantically attempting to play catch up with homework. It's funny you know I wasn't aware that I was even behind on my homework. How sad for me. Anyways, other than homework, I've been motivated to rearrange my furniture. This is a common occurrence in my home and I'm surprised that my husband hasn't left me yet - or at the very least threatened to glue the furniture down. There is something to be said for the sweet bliss of walking into a room and knowing that everything has a place. It just happens to be a different place than it was last week. This move involved more than furniture. Kid #2 decided to write on his wall the other day. Now I don't know about you but if I was going to brave the world of permanent markers on my parents walls i would be particularly careful as to the word I chose to put down.... I know what he chose means something, I just cannot figure out what. However when he was scrubbing "pig" off the wall, most of the paint came with it. We are in the process of switching rooms and putting the boys together - so the pig room (as it has now been coined) is ours now. But I would not have it such labelled. Poor dear tolerant hubby rushed off to the paint store and now my lovely kid free pig bedroom is pumpkin spice. I love it. I had to choose something bright enough that even I could tell it was bright. I'm hoping, crossing my fingers now, that this was not an October inspired decision.
And on to the pink underwear. I took the kids to walmart last week. The big evil store is close to home and cheaper than I can thank them for. So off to evil walmart we went. I was getting the kids snow stuff (apparently just in time too) but also needed new underwear. Did you know that rash decisions are made in times of great stress? Stress like when the baby is crying and wants down and the older kids want to go back and look at the toys they know I'll never buy? Stress like, this is the first time in like three years I've been brave enough to even buy my own underwear. (Remember legally blind now and asking for visual assistance in this area of the store is not so much fun) Stress like, read that size, find that price, no honey you can't have those pretty argyle socks. Stress like, there is no dinner waiting for us when we finally get home and who has the energy to make it? Stress like, and here is the kicker, being colourblind in the underwear section at walmart. Stress like two older kids who think it's kind of funny once in awhile to pull a fast one on mommy when she wants to know what colour something is. All that being blogged.... let me just say it takes a special kind of person to want to wear pink underwear. But it takes an entirely different kind of person to wear them out of defeat.
I am defeated.... by a nine, six and one year old.
Okay, times up.... off to run.