I never got around to Sunday Sound Out because my car broke down while I was on the other side of the earth with all the kids. Ugh, that's another story. But here are answers to this week's questions.
How is Savannah doing?
We just got back from the doctor this afternoon and she was very upset to learn that she'll need to stay on the crutches for another 5 weeks at least. She was hoping he'd tell her she could throw the crutches in a bonfire. On the bright side, she's doing well as far as pain goes.
Congrats on the lovely looking book! Can't wait to read it and buy one for my pregnant niece (or should I wait to give it to her after the baby comes so as not to terrify her?!?)
Ummm...about that..... Although newly pregnant, first-time moms will enjoy the book, I think those of us who have already gone through pregnancy and delivery a time or two will find this book especially funny.
LOVING the broken tile under the scale! How funny. Now, should I see it as a sign, seeing as my toilet seat just recently broke in half...?
HA! Hmmm, no, blame the broken toilet seat on the kids. They probably did something to weaken it. (I think that picture of the broken tiles was taken after I got off the scale.)
Love the cover. Pre-ordered. Can't wait. Does working for almost 45 years to lose the "baby-fat" count as trying long enough? Just asking.
FORTY-FIVE years? Oh, you should've given up long ago and made yourself a big ole plate of nachos!
I love reading your blog, but one question why do you have a high chair? Your baby is not that kind of baby anymore. Just wondering.
Yeah, well, I don't have enough chairs for my table. It's either the high chair or an over-turned garbage can.
Do you have any ideas or tips on spring cleaning?
Wait til fall.
So how does nail polish remover work on plastic anyway?
I was supposed to clean it?!
How is it all going with the divorce?
Let's see here. Joe doesn't agree with the judge's recommendation and is taking the matter of the house to trial. He wants to force me to sell now. When asked, "Where will your kids go? Do you want them living on the street?" his standard response is, "It's not my problem." He also owes several thousand dollars in child support. In fact, the last check he sent bounced causing me over a hundred dollars in fees. And, of course, he still isn't involved in the kids' lives, doesn't see or talk to them (other than when he runs into them at work), and hasn't spent time with them in four and a half months. I've had a really positive attitude all along, believing that things will somehow work out. But last night, for the first time, I broke down and cried. The unknown sucks. Seeing your kids hurt sucks. Paying lawyer fees sucks. Worrying about money sucks. Having a husband who acts like this sucks (although, on the bright side, it's solidified my decision to file for divorce.)
OK, I can't end this post on such a um, sucky note. So, here's a Clayism. Today, at lunch, Clay said (all shocked-like), "What is on my pants? What on earth is this stuff on my pants?! Ohmygosh, it's poo! I have POO on my pants, Mom!"
I was completely grossed out at the prospect of his pants covered in poop. How did he get poop on his pants? Is it his? Did he roll around in dog poop? What the heck? I turned to look at him and saw this...
It's brown Play-Doh. And Clay's a punk.