So, with Elizabeth starting preschool a few weeks ago, I had thought that I’d suddenly locate heaps and heaps of free time to sit and reflect and write, and it would just be so lovely.  Somehow, that time hasn’t revealed itself to me quite yet.  Probably because I’ve just been way too busy lazing around eating bonbons.

Speaking of bonbons.  The first week of preschool found me in exactly the same state I’m in almost every night of my life around, oh, 9pm.  This state of which I am speaking involves me near-comatose on the couch.  It just does.  And I just am.  Every single day is a marathon, people.  Preschool or not.

And yet.  A day or two into my new three-hours-of-“freedom”-during-preschool reality, my beloved but severely misguided husband casually remarked, “I’m surprised you’re still tired at night.  You know, with preschool and all.”

You moms can just imagine how THAT one went down.  Or maybe you’re sweeter than I.  Actually, that’s quite possible.  But suffice it to say, I’m 100% sure those words will never be uttered from Matthew Carson’s lips ever again.  So help him God.

To give him a little credit (because I am just SO full of grace and all of that.  or maybe I’m just trying to make up for my tiny bit of, uh, attitude I gave him following The Incident.), theoretically I guess I COULD be using my newfound childless hours for bonbons and R&R.  After all, I did spend morning #2 making a wreath:
I really feel the need to document this on my blog because somehow many people have this weird misconception that I’m crafty.  Maybe it’s my one month foray into the world of sewing tiny little girl dresses when Mary Grace was but a wee little princess-loving toddler.  That was really cute of me.  However, I quickly decided that I had veered WAY out of my lane, and my sewing machine hasn’t seen the light of day since.

But, something got into me on that second day of preschool, and I decided that groceries and clean toilets could wait.  My life would no longer be complete without a new wreath for our front door.  So, I did what any modern woman would do: I waltzed right into Michael’s, iPhone in hand, and found myself the nearest employee.  Pulling up Pinterest, I showed the kind lady the very picture I wanted to replicate and announced, “I want to make this.  Can you help me do that?”

I scrambled home, stuck some fake flowers into the wreath, tied a few bows, and marveled at my creation.  Which is actually the creation of some Pinterest-er and also my crafty-Michael’s-angel, but who’s keeping track?  I almost decided to pull out my sewing machine to see what else I could possibly create and then decided that I had lost it.

When I’m not slaving over burlap and hot glue guns, you can find me saving wild animals.  As in, our dog.  Let’s be real- her eyeball is always a little jacked-up, but this time, it was even more jacked than usual.  Okay, so she just stopped opening her eye one day.  Minor details.  Pediatric nurse practitioner to the rescue.  With ace bandages

We (i.e. someone who actually knew what they were doing) got her fixed and back to her usual two mostly-okay eyed self.  It’s really too bad that no one around here loves her.

So, we’ve covered wreaths and dog eyes.  Now, soccer.  I love it.  Mary Grace loves it.  Matt continues to maintain that it’s boring.  And I tell him that he’s lame.

The intention was for Elizabeth and Mary Grace to play on the same team this season.  To kill two birds with one stone and to spare some of our Saturday mornings.

However, as it turns out, Elizabeth quickly decided that she’d rather be on the sidelines with cool refreshments and baby dolls.  We’ve got bigger fish to fry these days, my friends.  Sometimes quitting is the best option.

When she’s not toting around babies in her Ergo, Elizabeth can also be found pushing mountains of them through our neighborhood.  The other day, she asked me “how people adopt babies” because she wants to adopt “so many”.  Bless.

Mary Grace and Carson have been busy with THE GREATEST NEW HOBBY EVER.  Drawing.  Like, they both sit and draw all the time.  It’s quiet.  So quiet.  And cheap.  And it keeps them happy and engaged for hours on end.  I don’t know which one of you has performed some weird kind of voodoo on my kids to get them into this sort of magical thing, but KEEP DOING IT.

Okay, sure, we take breaks for donuts.  Naturally.  Because when Krispy Kreme wants to give us a few dozen donuts for dressing in our normal daily attire, who are we to refuse?  Also, this picture was taken at 6:30am.  On a Saturday.  Oh, hey Matt.  Wanna ask me why I’m so tired again?  (Love you. Mean it.)

Finally, I must include pictures of last week’s rendezvous at the zoo.  Because I really, really love the zoo.  Any zoo.  And am apparently forcing my same childhood passions on my children.  And I don’t even care.

(By the way, this is the look of a mom who doesn’t even care.)

(And these are the looks of three kids who make it their life mission to ensure that I’m “still tired at night.”  By the way.)