I know, I know. I was supposed to post yesterday, but the logistics of being in a new house are kicking my ass, even with my father's help. Having unpacked perhaps 60% of the boxes, I still don't know where the contents of the junk drawer are, so we have one functioning pen in the house, and #1's soccer stuff has disappeared, which is quite convenient considering her soccer camp started Monday. Add to that fun, my inexperience caring for three children in a house with more than one level, and having just moved into one with three, and you have a recipe for screaming quadriceps, and a screaming Mean Mommy. I guess I have my own oak-banistered Stairmaster.
So today's post is really just of the don't-stop-reading-I'll-be-back-soon variety since the baby is down for his nap and I need to pack the girls for their trip to Florida tomorrow (if I have to pack another item in a box, suitcase or bin any time in the next week I will throw myself into traffic). And a shower is pending as the plumber only just finished repairing the tub that had been clogged last night when the baby's washcloth got sucked down the stopper-less drain of my 1950's bathroom. Please forgive me for reneging on my promise. Next week, when I once again, become the mother of only one child, I will have time aplenty to write. Although if H has his way there will be no relaxing for me. When I told him I had hired a sitter for a few hours his response was, "Great! Gonna get the living room painted?"
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