I would really like to get into the swing of blogging on a regular basis. I can't seem to though, and this is my "slow season" to boot. During football season, which at our house lasts for roughly 9 months, its about all I can do to shower and brush my teeth every day. Love it? Yes, yes I do.
I thought I'd take a quick snap shot of our lives just to document where we are. Today. Right now.
We love Mexican salads. Hamburgers and ice cream. French fries. Pancakes. Sandwiches with mayo and pickles. Chips and salsa. Bread. Chocolate chip cookies.
I'm at work, and currently trying not to breathe too deeply as the hallway and my new office just got painted. I'm secretly terrified of the nice dusty coating my lungs have had this week of sheet rock dust, dirt, and paint. On the bright side, I know there have been no little critters running across my desk at night. They would most certainly leave footprints in the dust.
Mr. Man is about to be done for the day at a job he thoroughly hates. Loathes. Can. Not. Stand. It's been my contention for a few years now that what he puts into the job is way more beneficial than the enjoyment he gets out of it. I'm keeping my fingers crossed and praying hard that something opens up for him in the near future. I would really like to see him happy at work. It's not like he doesn't have skills or a good work ethic.
J is probably fatting out on the couch, looking at the clock and thinking to himself, "Self, you need to tidy up before Dad gets home." Following this thought he will get up from said couch and promptly start yelling at T and Lu to help him clean up. Hopefully that doesn't escalate to physical contact, which it's been known to in the past. He'll do the right thing though and clean up. but only the bare minimum, and he'll be grumpy about it. Hopefully this doesn't make Grandma feel bad. She stresses about stuff like that and ultimately just wants everyone to get along and be happy.
T will promptly go incognito when J says it's time to tidy. If that boy would spend the time actually doing what he spends so much time trying to get out of doing he'd get a lot done. He won't pick anything up, or will get distracted, and then yell back at J and call him a bully. Then the shoving will start. And the tears. And he'll end up picking up one solitary sock which he will stuff in some random corner and definitely not in the hamper. Then he will disappear and go look for some dirt to roll around in.
Lu. Well, Lu is the owner of most of the stuff that needs to be tidied up. J and T conveniently forget their Lego and Crayon phases and think her babies are ridiculous and that she has way too many of them. She loves them though and with a little help and some reverse psychology she will pick up her things.
The cat is currently sleeping on my bed, or in the bottom of my closet, or trying to anyway.
There's plenty of laundry to do.
And that is us for today.
