While I'm on here, ignoring the pile of clothes that won't just clean themselves, I might as well share a few other tidbits that are happening right now.
Tidbit one:
I LOVE (love love love love) the way Hunter says grapes. He calls them "Gumps." Seriously, I can't get enough of him reaching up towards the grapes on the counter while repeating, "Gumps. Gumps. Gumps." Just when I think he can't get any cuter, he always does!
Tidbit two:
Tralee is obsessed with two articles of clothing right now. The first are her princess shoes. You know, those cheap, plastic, glittery things. That's usually the first thing she asks for in the morning. "Mommy, do you know where my princess shoes are? You know, the ones that go like this?" Then she starts to prance around the room.
The second article of clothing Tralee loves are her jammies. More specifically, her pink polka dot ones. For three days in a row, I've changed her into regular clothes in the morning. The whole time listening to Tralee say, "But, I want to stay in my jammies!" Once I convince her that she can wear them later, we leave the house, take care of whatever errands or playdates need to be done, and by the time we make it back home, Tralee runs into her room, finds her jammies, and requests they be put back on. The first day I didn't care, because, whatever, we were home. The second day I only cared a little bit because we had to go to Enrichment that night, and I thought it might look weird going into the ward building with her decked out in polka dot jammies. Today is the third day, and the polka dots are looking a little shabby, which is a constant reminder of all the other dirty clothes that need to be washed.
Yet, here I sit, typing away. Hoping that, as I sit here, I'll see the clothes dance to the tune of "A Spoonful of Sugar" down the stairs, splash into the wash machine, where they will magically get washed and folded on their own. It's so not happening, which is a bit disappointing, but not so much that I'm going to freak out. Just disappointing enough that I feel entitled to eat a Dove dark chocolate, wait for the sugar rush to hit, then push up my sleeves, and get to work. My laundry won't be done as magically as Mary Poppins, and probably not folded as perfectly as June Cleaver's, but it will get done. And tomorrow, my little Hunty-D will be wrapped carefully in four layers of clothes, because --dang it -- I am a good mom. I just don't like to do laundry.
4 comments:
Love the post! Wish I could be your June Cleaver. But I love you just the way you are. Don't ever change!
Love Mom
amen. there are a few tasks I would hire out... maybe if I do your laundry, would you clean my shower?? I hate that job! although I can't say that I love the laundry...
Laundry is de debil.
You are an amazing mom!
I'll take one June Cleaver and 2 spoons full of Sugar. . . Please!
My keyboard was not working for a while but I wanted to say I loved your crafty crafts!
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