(Early) this morning, I woke my dear, sweet, darling husband with a rousing rendition of the “happy birthday” song. Except that it wasn’t the “happy birthday” song at all. It went more like this: “happy back to work day to you, happy back to work day to youuuu.” Actually, it went exactly like that.
I’ve mentioned a time or two that we’ve been SO SICK around here. But. Today, we’re better! He’s better. ‘Tis high time to return to the land of the living, I told him. I like routine around here, people. And having my husband languish in bed (or on the couch. because March Madness.) for days on end is not the type of routine in which I thrive.
He puts up with a lot, that husband of mine. But, for what it’s worth, I did scratch his back and rub his head as I serenaded him out of slumber and back to work. Marriage. It’s give and take, people. I’m practically an expert.
ANYWAY.
There have been a lot of words on this blog recently. So, how ’bout a few pictures to prove that, despite the never-fading stench of bleach and Lysol in our home, we are doing just fine.
So, here we go. What the Allisons have been up to when we haven’t been hovering over the toilet slash languishing on the couch:
- Birthday parties! I have yet to document Elizabeth’s princess/gymnastics birthday party, but let’s just say that I thank the Lord Jesus every. single. time. I make the decision to have kid birthday parties at a place. Like, versus at our home. Sure, we overpay, but it’s worth every cent. Especially when we only do big parties every few years. Listen. Some of us enjoy kid party planning. I am not one of those people. Having someone else host, entertain, and clean up after a slew of hyped-up-on-sugar bambinos is my love language.
2. Puppies. Ohmygosh, you guys. The puppies. We love our neighborhood. We love our neighbors. But we’ve loved our neighborhood and neighbors infinitely more after seven tiny little puppies were born next door. Our sweet neighbors keep asking if we want to play with the puppies which is the most ridiculous question ever because WHO WOULDN’T. They say they want their puppies socialized. I always say yes, hesitant to break the news that I’m still working on socializing my own human children. But whatever. Puppies.
3. This child can’t stop, won’t stop reading. We’re talking hours and hours every day. I know what you’re thinking: “oh hi, annoying mom humblebrag.” NO. I don’t even know what to do with the kid. I am running out of age-appropriate books for him. I’ve bribed him to throw a football with me. To run! Play! Be a kid! In response to a moment of disobedience the other day, I overheard Matt threatening to ground him FROM READING. Some parents employ time-out. Others add more chores. Still others take books away. We’re such awesome parents, you guys.
4. Speaking of reading… not long ago, I casually mentioned to Matt that “oh hey, so maybe I wanna write a book.” Like, as nonchalant as I’m doing here. Which, in case you’re wondering, is completely intentional. Because if I’m “oh, whatever” about this, then it takes away the awkwardness of admitting that I think I have something worth saying. Or that I’m even a WRITER. (Pause. I am not subtly fishing for affirmation here, people. At all. I’m just giving you a tiny glimpse into the crazy that is my brain. Getitgotitgood? K, carry on.) I mean, I blog about my kids’ bodily fluids. Writing a book? Thinking about that makes me cry. Real tears. Yesterday, I cried legit tears as I once again mentioned the COMPLETELY PREPOSTEROUS idea of writing. A book. Later in the evening, this materialized on my kitchen counter. What my flu-striken husband was doing reading Childcraft’s 1990 version of How We Get Things, I do not know. But I’m pretty sure a hearty “bless his heart” is warranted.
5. Moving on, I’m pretty sure the following two pictures most accurately portray life these days. Hot glueing heads back on princesses…
… and washing The Plague off of already-ratty-and-blood-stained baby dolls. Again. They say I’m going to miss these days. They say that.
6. And finally, we have been outside. Playing in the sprinkler in the winter. Pretending that it’s summer when it’s not. Sometimes, you just gotta make believe. You gotta take the bizarre 84 degree March day and enjoy every last drop. Because you just don’t know who will puke next.
