I feel like I've had next to nothing to blog about lately. We don't sit at home doing nothing, but most of what we do doesn't seem worth mentioning and sometimes I want things to talk about besides what the baby is doing. Shot me if I ever write something along the lines of "Annabelle can move her toes! Call Brian Williams and the evening news! Get the Harvard application!"
* I joined a MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) group last week. I was almost too chicken to get out of the car because I knew I wouldn't know anyone, but I can't complain about not having friends with kids nearby if I don't make an effort. They gave me a paper to fill about Annabelle and I almost put "forget the clean diaper, she must always be wearing a bow" on the line for special instructions, but I don't want to be seen as the difficult mom right off the bat.
The director gave me a box of craft supplies and told me to make a name tag. There weren't any stencils in the box so CUE THE OCD PANIC. I stopped short of digging through a closet to find a cup to trace so I'd have the perfect circle.
The guest speaker was a woman who survived breast cancer and now owns a wig and bra store. She talked about bras for 58 minute. I had no idea there was so much to say on the topic. My usual criteria is that I like the color.
* We got Annabelle a jumperoo. You know who refuses to pay $129 on a toy that has more buttons than my car? Me. You know who doesn't care that she has the low-end jumperoo? This girl.
Her favorite toy is the tithing envelope at church so I expect she'll be happy as a clam when I stick her in a cardboard box and call it a playpen.
* The maintenance man is here for the fourth time in three weeks to fix our heating and cooling problems. He asked if I know where the handles for the air port vents are located. Excuse me? The what? I know nothing about our heating and cooling systems except THEY DON'T WORK.
I just remembered the time different maintenance men came earlier in the year. I was pregnant and in the very pits of despair and morning sickness. I was stumbling around with mismatched pajamas, a messy bun, and most certainly no makeup. I looked like death. I know what you're thinking- "Christopher is a lucky guy to have married such an attractive woman!" I sat at the table, crying and trying to keep down a muffin when who should appear at our door but two maintenance men. They weren't scheduled to come until Thursday and it was only Tuesday. They kept ringing and I kept sitting there refusing to answer the door in such a state. We have a window near the door and I knew it was only a matter of time before they looked through and saw me. I slid off the chair and crawled over to the kitchen away from view. I was so proud of myself for such stealthy moves. I was sure the next person to knock on the door would be a Special Forces recruiter. A few minutes went by without noise from the guys so I decided to see if they were still there. Here's where I encountered a flaw in my perfect plan. The only way to see the door from the kitchen was for me to crawl around the corner into view. I looked once and they saw me. The guy was looking in the window. I sat on the floor while they continued to knock because I would not let them win. Fifteen minutes later they left. I spent the rest of the day drafting a speech in my head about how they shouldn't show up unannounced on the wrong day at the home of someone with a VERY DELICATE stomach and emotional state.
That afternoon I took a three hour nap because sitting on the kitchen floor is exhausting.
I just remembered the time different maintenance men came earlier in the year. I was pregnant and in the very pits of despair and morning sickness. I was stumbling around with mismatched pajamas, a messy bun, and most certainly no makeup. I looked like death. I know what you're thinking- "Christopher is a lucky guy to have married such an attractive woman!" I sat at the table, crying and trying to keep down a muffin when who should appear at our door but two maintenance men. They weren't scheduled to come until Thursday and it was only Tuesday. They kept ringing and I kept sitting there refusing to answer the door in such a state. We have a window near the door and I knew it was only a matter of time before they looked through and saw me. I slid off the chair and crawled over to the kitchen away from view. I was so proud of myself for such stealthy moves. I was sure the next person to knock on the door would be a Special Forces recruiter. A few minutes went by without noise from the guys so I decided to see if they were still there. Here's where I encountered a flaw in my perfect plan. The only way to see the door from the kitchen was for me to crawl around the corner into view. I looked once and they saw me. The guy was looking in the window. I sat on the floor while they continued to knock because I would not let them win. Fifteen minutes later they left. I spent the rest of the day drafting a speech in my head about how they shouldn't show up unannounced on the wrong day at the home of someone with a VERY DELICATE stomach and emotional state.
That afternoon I took a three hour nap because sitting on the kitchen floor is exhausting.
2 comments:
She looks quite happy with her jumperoo! :)
That story about the maintenance men made a slow smile creep across my face. I really admire your persistence. And stealth.
Also, Annabelle, you darling little girl. Your face in that new jumper could melt the coldest winter! You are so stinkin cute!
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