Skip to main content

Smelly Hands

I know I told him it was at  7:30 AM, but he acted all in shock as we headed to bed. As in it's Saturday and we have to be somewhere at 7:30 AM. I reminded him that it was him who was willing and only because of him that we were able.

I feel like my hands still feel and smell like poo. I'm not ready for nasty poo diapers that keep coming. It was so-gross. 

And now I am craving chips & salsa from somewhere authentic, due to someone's comment on Facebook. Obscure marketing. I don't know if Mr Smith will buy into it, literally, but I'll see. He's a sucker for my needs. And we worked hard today. We watched four kids and kept them all alive. We should celebrate, with chips & salsa that is! It's the little things in life. 

Let me tell you the last time we had a date . . .

It's been awhile. This happens when you'd rather save money and you're just tired. My hair has been in a perma-pony-tail. Noise and crowds are more upsetting than exciting. So we simply, stay home. 

Except for now, I want authentic chips & salsa. But then there is the pressure of ordering the perfect thing. Ugh. It's stressful. We'll probably just stay home and make our own =)




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

And so it begins, again

At what point do you ... 1. Keep holding on waiting for inspiration to come 2. Try something different 3. Let go & walk away I'd say most of us are usually somewhere in between #1 & #2, but there are occasional moments where I find myself locked into another Jane Austin film with some oreos & milk ignoring reality all together.  Today, I'm trying to rise above some level of complacency & clear my mind at your expense. Mr Smith & I had a good run of it, but since blogs became obsolete in 2017 while Instragram chained us all to algorithms, I had no audience nor desire to write in this world. But times change, after it murders our souls, and alas we are famished for an authentic keyboard with less distractions again. So, let's catch up. They say it comes in threes... Since our job change in 2017, we experienced three more moves, three additional job changes (that don't necessarily align with the moves), and three additional children.  2018-2022 were ver...

Breaking Silence for Religion

I've never been good at being concise. I like words too much. I think outloud. And I haven't had time to blog all these conversations & posts & mental thoughts and it's eating at me to write it all down, to get it out there. These are some words that no one understands anymore: love, tolerance, faith, forgiveness, covenants, judgment, respect, moderation, self-worth, humility, equality...at least if they say they do, I wouldn't believe them. In truth, I think we should be forever understanding what these words mean. Yet I hear people affirming over & over again in their actions & with their voice that they want to be right and they want you to know it & accept the choices they're making. So much for democracy & freedom. They might say "to each his own" but I'm not idealistic anymore, people don't really believe that.  I reference "the world" a lot. Let's clarify what I mean. We can start with Holly...

We're patiently waiting

Picture Mr Smith putting together the pack-n-play. He was so cute. Mostly when he had to read the directions. Do we have a child? Don't ask such silly questions. Hopefully it won't collect too much dust in 5.5 months. We're ready now . . . (but not really) It has a changing thing and a removable bassinet that vibrates.  I'm okay with not needing a changing table.  It will probably mean we won't get a crib for awhile too.  Next we need to hear from our baby/exercise friends a good car seat & jogging stroller (maybe ones that work together)... Any favorites? Then a blanket . . . Then a breast pump . . . Then a diaper bag. . .  Then lots of diapers, toys & cute clothes.  And even a mobile.  Then they get older and there's even more things. Mr Smith is just so thrilled. I'd love to hear about any products that you recommend/absolutely love having. Here is one thing you can do to annoy Mr Smith: go ...