***Disclaimer: It's after midnight, I haven't slept much in two days, I feel whiney, tired, and strangely poetic. Anything you may read in this blog post is well, obviously the ramblings of a very tired mom and will more than likely be completely random. I can't seem to stop myself...hopefully, you can.***
Garrett tried to balance on a big rubber ball today and almost fell off. He caught himself with one hand against the couch and said, "Sweet HOME Lalabamba!" Yup, he's three. Apparently we watch to many cartoons at our house.
When the phone rings at our house, Megan will put her hand (or sometimes the remote) up to her ear and say "e'ro??" She is also walking all over, and today my friend Heidi & I found her trying to climb up on a stepstool to get onto the kitchen bench at the table. Heidi missed this later that evening, but Megan actually got up there before she fell off and bonked her head. My other three children just sat and watched.
People say bad things happen in threes...what about fours? or fives? Life at our house this past week or so has been a tad bothersome. We've had the flu, colds, a death (our van...sigh), teething, and weird sleepless nights that don't seem to have rhyme or reason to them. Not all of those are terrible, just not fun when they all happen at once. Hopefully we've reached our quota for the year. Knock on wood. On plastic. On anything that won't jinx me.
Why do people think vehicles are female? Why must vehicles have gender at all?
For my final paragraph this evening, I will present you with a poem of my very own words, brought forth out of my very own mind, my poor, tired, slightly delusional mind: Rain is wet, the sun is yellow, I'm tired of typing, and I'm getting my pillow.
I almost promise to make more sense tomorrow. Oh by the way, I lied. This is the last paragraph. Quit reading and go make me some cookies or somethin'. Seriously, cuz I'm hungry.
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