Untitled. Titles Are Too Much Like Work.

It’s another long, busy Thursday, and I have ABSOLUTELY NOTHING INTERESTING TO SAY.

(Lookit that. Up there. I am SO BORING I could not even think of a title for this post. Loser.)

Thursdays are hard. We get up early, rush around getting ready, drive like a bat out of hell for an hour, work for a few hours, drive like a a bat out of hell for an hour home (if I am trying to get That Baby home to nap in her own bed) or drive like a pokey old fart for two hours (if That Baby dozes off in the car and I want her to get the longest nap in that she can), scramble something for supper, and then crash. Usually, by 4 pm or so, I am burned out, and Stinkerbelle and I sit like bumps on logs for a couple hours watching something vaguely educational (or, to be competely honest, NOT) and wait for Daddy to bring home take out for dinner. Not my finest Mommy hour, to be sure. But after a full day we don’t care so much.

At least it’s not a day where poo features prominently. Stinkerbelle did her business at her sitter’s house, so that gets me out of Poo Duty. BDH cleaned the litter boxes last night, so that’s good. And BDH talked with Mr. Young Doctor about the Dog Poo Incident (who was MORTIFIED — he had hired someone to clean his deck for him and was NOT IMPRESSED) so I don’t have to clean up outside, either. So there’s one upside to my day.

We may still sit and snuggle under a blankie on the sofa and watch TV. But although it’s a long day for me, I have to bear in mind that 7 hours out of the house is also a long day for Stinkerbelle, so she can probably use a little down time. We can watch How to Train Your Dragon or something equally entertaining and have some snacks, and just have a little girl time. I can even fit in a little therapy stuff if she’s relaxed and okay with it.

And, as far as dinner is concerned tonight, my crock pot extravaganza of the past few weeks means that, rather than fast food for dinner, we can do a leftover night. There’s a bit of cranberry pork roast in the fridge, lots of veggies, some balsamic chicken from a few nights back, and a whole variety of soups and stews in the freezer. Everyone can have what they want, heated to order in the microwave. So that’s nice. Not so much Mommy Fail in leftovers as there is in a Happy Meal.

BDH has soccer tonight (again), this time at 11 pm, which means that he’s going to be out late and get to bed late and he’ll probably want to have a nap for an hour or two before he leaves. So that means, after That Baby is tucked up in bed, I may park my tired self on the sofa with my knitting and a movie and a mug of something warm to keep the chill off, while the snow falls outside. Can’t complain about that. Plus, I’ll be fretting and worrying while he’s out driving across the region in the middle of the night and back again, so that will help me forget and unwind before bed.

So, yeah. What was I complaining about again?

It’s a long day, but not a bad day. And not a bad way to end it, I have to say.

One thought on “Untitled. Titles Are Too Much Like Work.

  1. Gotta say it all sounds pretty idyllic. Ok, maybe not the husband out really late in crappy weather part, but the mug, knitting, movie part sounds DELIGHTFUL!

    I will be there in spirit.

    Except I won’t, that would just be creepy.

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