Chasing My Blessings

I left the cloth diapers hanging on the clothesline outside overnight AGAIN last night. Ugh. Luckily we live in Colorado and there usually isn't much moisture in the early morning this time of year. Let me preface all this by saying that I am pregnant and nearing the end of my first trimester. You all may or may not be aware of a little phenomenon called "pregnancy brain." Did you know a woman's brain actually shrinks during pregnancy? It's true. Thanks, mother nature. Like I needed that. Although I am a nurse, I cannot remember the exact physiology around this because, well I HAVE PREGNANCY BRAIN. So, along with the nausea, exhaustion, bloating, and general feeling of disgust most women feel during the beginnings of pregnancy, we also get to feel like we are in the early stages of alzheimer's. Oh the joys. When I woke up for the hundredth time to pee, around 4am, I happened to look out the window and notice the diapers still hanging there on the line. Which...

Actual conversation with my husband the other night: Me: "The faucet in the bathroom has been dripping. Maybe we need to call Scott (the landlord)." Bill: "Yeah, I noticed that too. The other day it was dripping at a rate of 1 drop every 13 seconds, which is about 14 gallons per month." ** Seriously? ...Well, the fact is, I am not at all surprised by the fact that he actually took the time to calculate this, so why even kid myself.** Me: (chuckling, partly at the fact that sadly, this is how many of our conversations go and partly at the fact that this math whiz chose to marry the girl who is mathematically challenged)  "Well, 14 gallons seems like a lot." Bill: "It seems like it, but it's really about the equivalent of a bath. I will keep an eye on it and we can give Scott a call if it seems like it's getting worse." Can anyone else out there relate?

We have yet again, managed to make it through another week. Well, almost. There is still Saturday to get through, but there will be 2 parents home tomorrow which makes managing the chaos much easier. This week, like most, was filled with smiles, giggles, hugs, kisses, playing, lots of noise, tickles, tantrums, time-outs, and tears, but mostly love and laughter. Blake spilled his milk at the dinner table, AGAIN, which is pretty much par for the course since he is usually too busy talking and pushing his plate around to actually eat anything. Why the hell do I burden myself with placemats that have to be washed, instead of just wiped down? Why have placemats at all? I guess I still have this idea (which is quickly fading while raising two boys) that I can create a lovely and put-together home. Landon inhales his dinner in about 8 minutes and proudly displays the "all done" sign (which is also the same hand signal they use for touchdown if you happen to live with football love...