Ah, coffee. Blueberry bagels. The sound of the dishwasher. Shaved legs. Sleeping husband and sleeping children and sleeping dogs. I love Saturday mornings.
Tonight my BFF Brian and his wife Irma are driving in on their way from Maryland to California. They’re only staying until tomorrow morning but I’m excited nonetheless. I’m thinking about cleaning but I’m not sure it’s worth the effort. It takes me 2 hours to vacuum and sweep and mop and it takes .2 seconds for someone to walk in and jack it all up again. Anyways, I haven’t seen Brian and Irma since Mia was 4 months old. And it’s a shame, because Irma is freaking funny. If they lived nearby, I’d make her be my best friend, and I’d cast Brian aside like an old shoe.
I managed to get Mia’s school shopping done–all of it. Backpack, crayons, paints, glue, and the long list of cleaning supplies the school sent out. We also picked up 3 new pairs of shoes and 6 or 7 new outfits. She will be so stylin’ on the first day of preschool. She’s so wound up about it, too; everyday she asks, even though I’ve told her it won’t be until after her birthday, "Mom, is today preschool?" I’d say this is going to be easy, but watch her scream her head off when I try and drop her off that first day.
Cheyenne, I assume, is excited about starting the 7th grade. I have yet to take her out and pick up some clothes and shoes that actually fit her, but we’ll squeeze that shopping trip in at a later date and time. We went through her closet and took out everything that was way too short or way too tight–there’s a mountain of clothes sitting on her bedroom floor that we’ll either be garage-selling, or taking to Good Will, one or the other.
Caleb’s got an interview this coming week; actually it’s more like negotiation meeting because this company wants him in the worst way. Caleb just wants to know how much are they willing to pay him. So that has taken a tremendous weight off of his shoulders, just knowing that he’s pretty much got something lined up, and he can still work from home and set his own schedule. And no, he’s not a drug dealer.
Merrick is getting so cute and fat and smiley. He’s such a happy, snuggly little baby.
Something in this office smells like dog poop and cigarettes. I don’t know where it’s coming from. But it’s driving me crazy and I can no longer type in here. Have a great weekend, people.