bullet points are where it's at

• We had a rollicking weekend. I didn't get out of my pajamas until 12 on Saturday and even then I only upgraded to sweatpant-material capris. Annabelle didn't make it out of her pajamas until 2 o'clock and that was only because we were going out. We went to our favorite yogurt place and discovered they now have happy hour every day between 2 and 5. Guess where I'll be every afternoon from now on. We had pizza for supper and I didn't even bother getting a healthy vegetable for a side because:
  
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• Annabelle decided to stay awake for 10 hours straight on Saturday. That's what I get for boasting about what a good sleeper she is. I'm not a violent person, but if anyone had so much as dared to make a noise by moving their little toe after I finally got her asleep at 11:22pm, things would have gotten mean.
• I'm sewing Annabelle a dress. You can expect it to be done sometime around September of 2016.
• I have been getting a number of unexplained bruises on my legs. I haven't talked to a doctor about them, just come up with 14 possible reasons for said bruises and given myself 30 days to live. 
  
• Sometimes when we put our hand put in front of her face Annabelle will high five it with her hand. I am so proud because I feel like that means I'm doing a great job. Then I think about the fact that she frequently has her middle finger sticking straight up and my pride gets knocked down about twelve notches.
• Over the course of our wild weekend we played 'Would You Rather Be?" Generally it takes Christopher .3 seconds to answer and he seldom second guesses himself. I gave myself gray hairs trying to decide if I'm rather be a closet or a bureau, a pumpkin or a squash, a barber or a locksmith, a tropical vacation or a mountain vacation. WHAT IF I ANSWER WRONG? What if I say I'd rather be a blanket than a pillow when I should have said the opposite? No need to tell me I'm off my rocker. I'm fully aware. (For the record, I'd rather be a rocking chair than a couch.)