I had a friend over to my house today cause I’m social like that. Merrick sort of played with but mostly annoyed her 3-year-old and I tried my darndest not to scare her away by chatting her ears off. It was a good time.
After a nice lunch of sliced avacadoes and cold pancakes, I layed Merrick down for what may just be the longest nap he’s taken in recent years. I didn’t know what to do with myself; I thought about painting but I was too busy going into Merrick’s room every 5 minutes to make sure he was still breathing.
At 3:00 I picked up a hysterically hysterical Mia from school. She was so upset–couldn’t even talk straight–over a bottle of blue glue. I pulled the car over so I could fully concentrate while she gave me a rundown of her day, just in case I missed something really horrible the first time she went over it. But no. It was all about the glue. AND THAT’S PRETTY MUCH IT.
Normally I would’ve been laughing under my breath, but she only works herself into such a state of extreme upset when she’s coming down with a big fat case of the crud. I called the doctor and scheduled her an appointment for tomorrow morning; I think I may be on the verge of breaking a record–between me and all 3 of the kids I’m a shoe-in for "Most pointless visits to a doctor’s office in one month". Okay, maybe not all those visits have been completely pointless, but I feel like such a schmuck dragging in kid after kid saying "Make them stop screaming."