A Regular Tuesday

A few things this morning:

1. The front door is frozen shut.  Frozen glass door Ice on glass doorWe got out fine, but there were about three seconds of panic this morning.  OH MY G…oh, nevermind.  It isn’t even that cold here.  Or maybe it is.  Last year was just so, so bad.  We haven’t even gotten below 0F this year.  I mean, sure, there is ice on the bedroom wall, but we only just got our first deep snow of the year.  That trapped feeling has only had a day to develop.

2.  I started working on refinishing the dollhouse!  Also, because I like a challenge, I pulled the kids’ baby books out and am working on those too.  What it means for the rest of my life is that we have eaten bagels and cheese curds or delivery pizza for dinner three, four nights in a row now.  Actually a week.  I haven’t done any laundry, any dishes, only one renegade grocery run (for more bagels), and the house is a total wreck.

IMG_1781 IMG_1777 IMG_1769 IMG_1771 IMG_1768 IMG_1766BUT look at how cute the dollhouse is getting!

IMG_17783. I finally made a decision, this morning in the car about the kindergarten conundrum.  She’ll go to four days of 4-year-kindergarten next year.  The bonus is that just after I sorted it all out in my head, I realized we actually go to the school to register her this afternoon!  Yeah, me!  Totally on top of this!

4. This morning, I pack lunches, and announce, “Snowpants time!” and not only does no one start “sqwauking” in protest like a scipionyx or laying on the floor moaning about how they can’t find any socks, no one is even around.  It is silent.  Like every mother I know, a certain volume of venom and rage builds (and if this isn’t you, tell me your secret. As long as it doesn’t involve getting up earlier, flow charts, or rewards, I’m all ears.)  I am about to yell, like every morning, something like “PANTS!”, “BOOTS!” or, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!? We have to go NOW!” and I hear them, quietly talking in the bedroom.  I peek in the door to find them both in the tiny pop-up princess tent on the top bunk, snuggling while the six-year-old reads a book out loud.  Oh.  Of course.  The bile seeps out of me and we all get bundled together, peacefully, with no bitterness or yelling and I walk head-long into the frozen door.  I didn’t even swear!    Happy Tuesday, all!


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