Oh! The Horror!

Tweet

So apparently I've turned into the kind of woman that eats salad for lunch.

Next thing you know I'm going to be eating acai berries, or doing a cleanse, or [shudder] becoming a vegetarian.

The fact of the matter is this: a handful of spinach and some cut up vegetables (and - peering - some nachos? And candied nuts?) is easier to throw together than anything else I can find on a regular basis. And - since I'm gifted at using salad as a garbage disposal for all manner of other foods - it's much easier to remember to throw a box of spinach leaves into the grocery cart while all three kids dance and yell and jump around like lunatics around me than it is to actually plan lunches.

Lunches for me, that is. For the kids? I go all out.

While My Cleaner Gently Cleans

Tweet

I've had my house cleaned by someone other than me four whole times in the past two months, and have discovered a skill I never thought I possessed - or, at least - a skill I never thought I'd be capable of learning. It's a skill that has dramatically improved my life in ways I can barely describe.

Are you ready for it?

I am extraordinarily skilled at not cleaning before the housecleaner comes.

Amaze-balls, I'm sure.

Okay, for real now, I do pick things up off of the floor, but I don't sweep the floor. I put the tubby toys away, but I don't even think about the gritty ring of grit staring unblinkingly (because of the grit) at me from the inside of the bathtub.

Do you know what this skill of mine has done for me? It's created time out of thin air.

Just having a housecleaner creates time for stuff like this to happen:

Um. It seems that my involvement in Saturday Afternoon Science was limited to photographic evidence keeper, but I had a very important job that my not cleaning skills gave me the time to do: Keep Lucy Out Of It By Playing Silly Games With Her.

Turns out I have two amazing skills.Tremble in awe, mere mortals.

The Bunny

Tweet

So, the bunny.

The little white and brown bunny that my mom gave Lucy as a baby. The bunny that she's been curling her wee baby body around as soon as she knew how to.

The bunny that's been everywhere. That's necessary. That - when she can't find it - gets shouted for imperiously as she wanders through the house looking for it.

The bunny that's been stuffed in shopping carts, left in cars, and clutched in the stroller on the way to the park.

The bunny that's been chewed on, sucked on, and dragged around so much that it's grey. And - frankly - smelly.

 

 

That bunny.

Correction: these bunnies.

You're welcome for pre-emptively averting a Lost Bunny Crisis of epic - EPIC - proportions.

I'm stil cheap and busy all the time but sometimes I'm awesome

Tweet

Most of my reading these days is finance. Some of it is great and interesting and exciting, most of it is all of that with a big fat middle school not at the end, so in self defense there's a tiny little section in my reader dedicated to Things That Are Not Finance.

This is one of those things: Free Our Kids DIY Superhero Capes. I haz them.

T-shirt met scissors met markers. Neck hole stays, everything else except the back (or front, depending) of the shirt goes. Despite Norah's disappointment that I can't draw Firestar for real and had to resort to a somewhat fiery F (it's like she doesn't even know me at all), these have been in constant use since July. Oscar sleeps with his beside him.

And never fear, Lucy the Insistent has one too:

p.s. As the Facebook gang already knows, I updated my About Page. It's thorough, accurate, and sensible.