Stop Nosin' Through the Trash

It's Monday. That means Laundry Day. I won't remind you of the inventory of laundry that I do each Monday, except to say that I did it early last week and so this week I have 10 days worth to do instead of just the usual 7.

Sometimes, I'm very structured and intentional about how I order my day and then there are days like today. I might end up caving and watching an episode of Little House today with Kendall. She begs me daily. Here's what's happened so far:

1. I am showered, dressed and have a decent amount of hair and make-up fixed. As a consequence of such selfish acts, Nick ate his breakfast essentially by himself while I showered which some may say was a poor choice to give him a bowl of yogurt and a spoon. I'll elaborate later.
2. The Laundry was started and Kendall and I had some "workbook time." Today, we cut out uppercase and lowercase letters A-L. It did not go well. Cutting--good. Learning the letters--bad. When I got to L, she insisted that the lowercase L was an imposter and was in reality the number 1. An understandable case of mistaken identity and I'm thrilled that she acknoledges a member of the number family, but there was no explaining the misunderstanding and it was very upsetting to one of us who angrily scrambled the letters and ran away in tears (it was Kendall, not me). Damn 1 and L, damn them to hell.
3. My book club is meeting at my house tomorrow and so it is our little thing that whoever picks the book, hosts at her house and provides a simple treat in keeping with the theme of the book or in reference to something the characters ate in the book. The book I ignorantly chose is called Talk Before Sleep by Elizabeth Berg. Emily says I need to grow up, but if growing up means enjoying the odd lifestyles of gay women as they gather around one woman who is dying of terminal breast cancer and eat junk food like there's no tomorrow, I guess I'll just stay little. Anywho, I'm serving devil's food cupcakes frosted flesh-colored with a pink jelly bean to look like a boob. Tacky, no? While I am making, said cupcakes, Nick is walking around the kitchen, holding on to the cupboards and I have my radar half on and half off in that I know where he is but I have not cased the area for potential Nick-messes. I turn around from my Kitchen-Aid mixer to find my small son pulling the egg shells out of the trash and eating them. Are you gagging? I did. I'm sure he'll be dead by 5:00.
4. Nick needs to go down for a nap now and he's pooped for the third time today. At one point I know he's playing with Kendall within eyeshot, but then I hear him by his highchair and look around to see white creamy stuff all over his mouth! "It's the eggs! He's foaming at the mouth!" I scream. But, no, don't worry, it wasn't the eggs, is was only the bowl from his yogurt from the morning which had fallen behind the curtain panel that he has now found and decided to re-treat himself to. Yes, sisters, at least 6 hour old yogurt being eaten by the small one. I'm sure he won't make it past 3:00, now.

So, that's where I am so far. Please, please, don't everybody clammer to be me, I know it's hard to be you. The moral of this story is. Be sure you're ready, be very, very sure. And, when you are, don't turn your back on them for one second, they'll kill you!