Ok, so I'm working on "The Ending", Part III of my recent adoption experience. It's not that I have writers block - it's that technically it's a book. So I'm paring it down and trying to remember that as with my own life, there are only so many hours in the day for any of you to actually read through this stuff...and since like me, many of you probably follow several other blogs and websites...well, I'm paring.
Also, I'm tired. My blogging time is limited to after children around these here parts meet their pillows, which has been around 8pm. By the time that's done, dinner is cleaned up, last minute chores are snuffed out, I get a few intelligible adult sentences in with the hubs, and my pj's are on (ok, let's be honest...the pj's were already on. ok, fine! they were never off from the night before. nosy.) I'm too tired to do what I'm doing right now. Ahem. I keep thinking "tonight is the night I'll finish it" and tonight isn't. And neither was last night. Based on the current agenda for tomorrow, it doesn't look good. Sorry. (like as if you're waiting with baited breath, eh?) But I did promise it, and I will make good on that very soon...give me a couple more days.
Also, I'm trying to purge the heck out of this place. I'm not sure if I have cabin fever or Spring fever, but I have a major itch to rid the house of all things lame and unnecessary that are cluttering up my life and what little precious space I have left in this tiny abode. We are crammed unceremoniously into each and every room, and I'm (double sigh) tired of it. I think perhaps it's the nice weather - but it makes me want to slap on a pair of capris (livin' dangerous, I tell ya!) and throw my way too short hair up in a pony and get to cleaning. And purging. Purging and cleaning.
Know what's annoying? We just had that huge rummage sale, but I feel like I have tons more stuff to get rid of. How is that even possible, I ask myself. I'll tell you how. Because once Keira came home and we had a handle on her age/size/etc. I knew what we could keep vs. what could go. Clothes seem to be the big-one. They are everywhere. Just everywhere. So I've made it through the kid's closets and dressers and now we can decide what to do with all that.
And here's a little diddy for the moms out there: I asked AB what I should do with all those clothes currently littering our hallway. Donate? Give to a friend? What about consignment? Yeah, that's a great idea!
But his answer? Totally deadpan and serious as a freaking heart-attack?
"You probably better save all those clothes for our next one..."
Cough! Sputter! Uh-huh....I'll get right on that, O Captain, my Captain.
I'm gonna be a freaking vegetable by the time my kids are like, 12 or something. Gonna need a lift on the van and a ramp at the house during the high-school years as it is, just to get my old decrepit self up to the front door.
Would someone puuuhlease get over here and advise that lovely man of mine on the grace period after bringing home a new child...that magic "no-fly" zone of conversation where we don't even murmur, breath, or hint about that for a very long time? Holy Cow. Maybe not for you, but for me? I'm not ready to talk about that yet. Or even whisper about it, for crying out loud.
After all, I have a post in the wings titled "The Ending" and I'm not just talking bout' the experience, Criminy! Meh. Gah! Why'd he have to go and say that? I might lose my ever lovin' mind just pondering what he's implying. Did you read my last two posts? He was there for all that mayhem. What makes him so resilient, I would love to know?!?
Well, then again...they are pretty spectacular...maybe they make him resilient...
Mmmkay. It's ridiculous...I know...and I can't even take credit for how ridiculously cute they are either...it's certainly not my DNA.
Mucho love-o from Camp Tired,