Monday, Monday, Monday…

Do you know what I have not done today?

Sat down.  That’s what I have not done today.  It has been one of those days in which I finally said, “Okay, my people!  I will wash the clothes!”

(I am always amazed at how helpless members of the male tribe are when they run out of clean Under Armour shirts to wear.)

(And do you know what else?  Well, I wish that I had been the one who was clever enough to dream up the whole concept of silky fabric for shirts and shorts and socks, because I just heard that the makers of Under Armour are now some of the absolute wealthiest people in all of America.)

(That’s right behind Hubs and me, of course, because we totally had enough dollar bills that we could go on a date to the oil changing station this morning.  Oh, that’s right, folks!  Hubs and Thing 2 and I stopped at Starbucks for early morning sustenance, and after I had dropped the boy and his 3D animal cell craft project off at the junior high, we went to have the oil changed in the Suburban.  We sat with Thing 2 in the recently-remodeled waiting area, and we watched an informative show on the sleek, flat-screen TV mounted to the wall on the differences between rear-wheel drive, front-wheel drive, all-wheel drive and four-wheel drive.  I don’t think that I’ve ever been so riveted to the television screen in my entire life.)

(And apparently I just called myself a liar, because yes, I think I did sit in the hard plastic chair in that waiting room, waiting with baited breath to see how the episode of all-wheel drive explanations turned out.  Obviously, Hubs had already seen that episode, because he knew all the answers.)

But, AFTER our early morning breakfast date at the oil shop, I came home and I hit the floor running.  I cleaned bathrooms.  I did laundry.  I did LOTS of laundry.  I cleaned out the refrigerator.  I straightened up this and that and the other, and I realized that we are all a bunch of piglets living in this house who cannot seem to put anything in its proper place.  I vacuumed.  I slung the mop around.  I entertained Thing 2.

It was a day, people.

And then Thing 2 and I loaded up into the Suburban, and we picked up the boy and five of his buddies, because the wolf pack had all gotten the hair-brained idea that walking from the junior high school to the little coffee shop in the city for after-school snacks was a brilliant plan of action.

(I can’t say that I blame them, because of the words COFFEE SHOP, and because Starbucks handed me a white paper cup filled with THE! WORST! no-water chai in my Starbucks-ordering history.)

(So now, much like Ross and Rachel, Starbucks and I ARE ON A BREAK!)

(Thanks a lot, Starbucks!)

And then there were BOYS! BOYS! BOYS! running all around my yard with hysterical laughter, and there was dinner to fix, and soccer practice to haul the wolf pack to, and a bath for Thing 2, and homework for the boy, and well!

It has just been a day, but at the end of it here, my house is clean.  And when my house is clean, my mood skyrockets to epic proportions of happiness.  And I’m holding onto that level of happiness, even though Thing 2, who went to sleep at 6:30 last night because the nap was nonexistent yesterday, woke up at 1:00 this morning and went back to sleep at 3:30 this morning.  Yes, this comes straightaway after our pediatrician ASSURED US at our last appointment that ALL BABIES continue to wake up at the same time every morning, even if they go to bed EARLIER.  We took her at her word, because Dr. B has never steered us wrong.

Until last night.  Because at 1 AM Thing 2 announced, “Well.  That was a powerfully fine nap that I just took, and I’d like to DO SOME THINGS now.”  It took me until 3:30 this morning to convince him that nobody around here “does some things” in the wee hours of the morning.  So here’s hoping that we all get an early bedtime tonight.

So, with heading to bed in mind, I’ll just leave you tonight with a few snapshots that I popped off over the weekend, because that’s what I do.  I point the camera, and I shoot.

Have you ever seen such an adorable baby?  Because I am smitten with Thing 2.

The little man is THISCLOSE to crawling.  He gets up on his hands and his knees, and sometimes he’s on his hands and HIS FEET, and then he just rocks back and forth, back and forth.  If he would just figure out that the knees CAN MOVE FORWARD, he’d take off.  Hubs and I aren’t quite sure that our current workout programs have trained us for what is going to take place when Thing 2 goes officially mobile.  Thing 2’s current energy levels, combined with mobility, are something that we believe will be like GASOLINE and MATCHES.  I think he’s going to take us to a level of cross training that Olympic athletes seldom reach.

At least by the time he’s two, Hubs and I should be in shape enough to climb Mt. Everest and see the view, or swim across the Atlantic Ocean.

Also?  Thing 2 looks homeless in that picture there.  He’s in a diaper.  He has streaks of bright orange from his dinner of squash all over his T-shirt.  He has drool hanging from his chin to the floor.  Poor Thing 2.  You know what they say about second babies.  When the boy was that age, I had him dressed at all times as if he was the lone heir to the king’s throne.  He never made an appearance in life in just a diaper.  He never had food on his shirt.

I like to refer to myself as a more relaxed mama now who won’t be shuffling around in her bathrobe at the asylum after a nervous breakdown from ALL THE DOING and ALL THE CLEANING OF THE BABY.  Saying that I’m a more relaxed mama is just a colorful way to say, “I am too lazy to even put pants on my second child or wipe his dinner off of him.”

And still, Jesus loves me.

The boy and his cousin, K, baked a cake with Mam over the weekend, because Mam has patience a-plenty for baking with her grandchildren.  Do you know what I have?  I have patience a-plenty for “Yes!  You really CAN go outside and play and stay out of the kitchen!”  The cake was a Dutch chocolate cake, and I’m going to go out on a limb here and announce that it was the very best cake the boy has ever made.

My word at all the deliciousness.

Apparently SCRUMPTIOUS is what happens when you bypass the boxed cake mixes at Walmart and blow the dust off of your cookbook.

Thing 2 sat in the kitchen with everyone while they mixed and stirred and taste-tested the chocolate.  He banged the measuring cups around on the counter, because banging measuring cups creates noise, and Thing 2 LOVES HIM SOME NOISE.

And with that, people, I’m going to head to bed.

Happy Monday, and I hope that all y’all can enjoy a date at the oil station this week.  The paid programming on the TV is captivating.

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