My Day Bullet-Pointed
Some days it's "everything," other days it's, well, like today.
- wake up at 9 a.m.
- toast for breakfast
- check the Etsy shop (Potter Alma Mater) for orders
- wonder how to turn all those "favorites" into orders
- discuss the science of sponges as my son marvels at how much blood my Jade & Pearl sea sponge can hold
- continuation of ongoing discussion on periods
- schedule son for pottery wheel class at local art studio per his request
- set out butter to soften for cookie making later
- remind husband to set son up for "cheetah class" at "Kid College"
- mourn the loss of spring so early in the year (only 90s and 100s in the forecast in central AZ)
- discuss with son the pros, cons, and frustrations of living with an HOA as I open two letters from them
- put on allergy blend of essential oils from Living Essentially with Stephanie
- start this blog post while thinking "ain't nobody got time (or desire) for (reading) this"
- consider the tragic deaths of Jonathon Conte and Prince
- poop (exactly an hour after I get up without fail - hashtag regular)
- think that whatever few readers I had on this post have now gone, since the poop bullet
- add a photo to Tinybeans for the family
- send video wish to sister for her birthday
- crochet Ravenclaw diaper cover for Potter Alma Mater while son plays Endless Reader on the Kindle
- continue to try to crochet between "look at this, Mama" requests every six seconds
- give up on crochet to do Endless Reader, because all the "look at this" requests have run together and it's time to give in
- Dada came home from giving his final at the college where he teaches
- my full attention was required as my son created and used a couch cushion trampoline, because, as was the case above, it's either willingly give the attention or hear "Mama, watch this" over and over again
- break for The Sandlot, which, if you read yesterday's post, you know is one of my favorite movies
- ask husband to do the same three things I've been asking him to do all week...again
- practice tennis outside with son (when we did this yesterday, I nailed him in the penis)
- bathe the boy
- make doctor's appointment for lad
- cancel doctor's appointment 10 minutes later
- Google symptoms
- lotion him up and make a mental note to keep an eye on it, rescheduling next week if it doesn't improve
- listen to Superfudge again on Audiobooks with the child o' mine
- find Halloween costume for son who has decided he simply must be a cowboy
- make cookies for last day of my son's tennis session
- make hamster treat for son's hamster, Pinkie
- more Endless Reader
- attend online Intro to Essential Oils class
- get everyone ready for tennis (because my husband's version of "ready" means he's aware that he needs to leave at some point and is considering moving, which is a completely different definition than mine, which means we're actually prepared to leave the house)
- watch my son at tennis practice while trying my best to drown out the other parents yammering incessantly about everything besides what their kids were doing on the court, cheer on their kids, because their own parents don't notice
- walk an elderly neighbor's dog right after practice as it is my son's paid job
- get home an immediately get naked
- wonder which one of us, me or my husband, is going to cave on making dinner first
- read the name "Hyneman" as "Hymen," which tells me it's an early-to-bed kind of night for me
- manage social media for Denise Williams, Realtor
- eat whatever we can scrounge, because neither of us wants to make anything
- take a little alone time in bed to crochet and watch Star Trek: Voyager on Netflix while son and husband play
- snuggle with my son in our bed, listen to Blubber on Audiobooks (discussing its happenings all the while), both fall asleep around 10 p.m.
