Our air conditioning unit, the new
one, went on strike a few days ago. Thankfully, a phone call or two later
and the company had a guy eating a sandwich at Chickfila who could stop on
by. David asked him to bring us dinner. Apparently he thought it
was a joke and there was no chicken in his truck when he showed up. Which
meant David thought about Chickfila for a good hour and a half before I could
make it there to purchase his beloved spicy chicken sandwich. And by
that time, our house was back to its original 72 degrees and I was happy again.
Is there a hypnosis class for food? I need it. And also one for working out. Whatever will tell my brain to get on the elliptical.
This week has been much better at work. I haven't f'ed up anything or gotten in too much over my head. Except for Thursday. Should have taken that day off.
Sweet Cheeks has had a fantastic week at school, though I will say she has come home with more scrapes than she did from the baby class. Not sure if it's from her own fingernails or not, but damn those things grow. She was sent home with her daily report card and an incident report on Tuesday, however. Her report card said, literally, "bit her ownself on arm." Well, that's hilarious. Come to find out, she had her eye on the big Emma's arm, which was in her grasp and by the time she got her chompers out to connect, Emma C. too fast too furious moved her arm out of the way. My intelligent child sunk her teeth into her own squishy baby arm...and well, she has clear as day werewolf bite marks on her wrist.
Her incident report, since apparently biting herself isn't cause for a separate report, indicated something that is currently on our fridge, above her report card from the day she took steps at school. This one was a doozy and simply said, "Emma P. hit her head on the counter while dancing to Elmo." And then I peed my pants.
Because. She hurt herself dancing to Elmo. Bless her heart, she seemed to be just fine after biting herself and busting a move with Sesame Street. I have laughed about thatmany many several times
this week and at night and on the phone with anyone. Kid loves to
dance. She's so cute.
She woke up this morning when David went in to get her and she said "hey." Cause that's what you say in the morning. Apparently.
Cheeks likes to go into the laundry room and shut the door to hide. Except she gets scared and starts crying. She learned from Daddy how to sit in her chair and not belly flop out of it.
She peed on the mat in the bathroom before I could get her into the tub. Maybe I've been washing her in her own pee this whole time, but she's never peed except once that I know of. So I figured, cute butt at edge of tub picture. Only I didn't have a camera, which worked out since she peed and then I picked her up and got pee down my leg. Gross, I hate pee.
Em picked out her own book for bedtime last night. So David read to her The Night Before Christmas.
We love her so much. And hope that she thinks twice before biting and dancing to Elmo. It's a dangerous world out there, but a world that is about to celebrate Christmas.
Is there a hypnosis class for food? I need it. And also one for working out. Whatever will tell my brain to get on the elliptical.
This week has been much better at work. I haven't f'ed up anything or gotten in too much over my head. Except for Thursday. Should have taken that day off.
Sweet Cheeks has had a fantastic week at school, though I will say she has come home with more scrapes than she did from the baby class. Not sure if it's from her own fingernails or not, but damn those things grow. She was sent home with her daily report card and an incident report on Tuesday, however. Her report card said, literally, "bit her ownself on arm." Well, that's hilarious. Come to find out, she had her eye on the big Emma's arm, which was in her grasp and by the time she got her chompers out to connect, Emma C. too fast too furious moved her arm out of the way. My intelligent child sunk her teeth into her own squishy baby arm...and well, she has clear as day werewolf bite marks on her wrist.
Her incident report, since apparently biting herself isn't cause for a separate report, indicated something that is currently on our fridge, above her report card from the day she took steps at school. This one was a doozy and simply said, "Emma P. hit her head on the counter while dancing to Elmo." And then I peed my pants.
Because. She hurt herself dancing to Elmo. Bless her heart, she seemed to be just fine after biting herself and busting a move with Sesame Street. I have laughed about that
She woke up this morning when David went in to get her and she said "hey." Cause that's what you say in the morning. Apparently.
Cheeks likes to go into the laundry room and shut the door to hide. Except she gets scared and starts crying. She learned from Daddy how to sit in her chair and not belly flop out of it.
She peed on the mat in the bathroom before I could get her into the tub. Maybe I've been washing her in her own pee this whole time, but she's never peed except once that I know of. So I figured, cute butt at edge of tub picture. Only I didn't have a camera, which worked out since she peed and then I picked her up and got pee down my leg. Gross, I hate pee.
Em picked out her own book for bedtime last night. So David read to her The Night Before Christmas.
We love her so much. And hope that she thinks twice before biting and dancing to Elmo. It's a dangerous world out there, but a world that is about to celebrate Christmas.
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