Happy Birthday!
This week, three of my kids celebrate their birthdays.
That yells out “Yikes” loud and clear for any writing or thinking that might have taken place.
Do you do anything special when someone you love celebrates a birthday?
I try.
This week, there will be three cakes. Three special suppers. Three ‘no chores’ days. And presents… in addition to my regular list of breakfasts, lunches, snacks, suppers, laundry, grocery shopping, driving, and cleaning.
Oh, and a blizzard happened. Which meant shoveling, and helping to clean out the garage to fit the car inside.
I may as well try to tightrope walk and hula hoop this week, too. What a great week for failure! : )
I tried to write a blog post around midnight last night, and all that came out was a jumbled, angst ridden poem about oncoming snowstorms. Not quite the “Love, Joy, Peace” theme. You will all thank me that it’s deleted. A poet I am not, even if I had a garrett in which to hide away and think.
Well, this is short and sweet because the laundry is awaiting. I think the next load is an entire basket of mismatched gloves and mittens that the kids collected, anticipating the blizzard. I hope some of them match.
Oh, and if anyone really wants breakfast this week,
I’ll just say “Let them eat cake!”
This week, three of my kids celebrate their birthdays.
That yells out “Yikes” loud and clear for any writing or thinking that might have taken place.
Do you do anything special when someone you love celebrates a birthday?
I try.
This week, there will be three cakes. Three special suppers. Three ‘no chores’ days. And presents… in addition to my regular list of breakfasts, lunches, snacks, suppers, laundry, grocery shopping, driving, and cleaning.
Oh, and a blizzard happened. Which meant shoveling, and helping to clean out the garage to fit the car inside.
I may as well try to tightrope walk and hula hoop this week, too. What a great week for failure! : )
I tried to write a blog post around midnight last night, and all that came out was a jumbled, angst ridden poem about oncoming snowstorms. Not quite the “Love, Joy, Peace” theme. You will all thank me that it’s deleted. A poet I am not, even if I had a garrett in which to hide away and think.
Well, this is short and sweet because the laundry is awaiting. I think the next load is an entire basket of mismatched gloves and mittens that the kids collected, anticipating the blizzard. I hope some of them match.
Oh, and if anyone really wants breakfast this week,
I’ll just say “Let them eat cake!”
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