I had every intention of waking up extra early this morning to spend some time working on posts that I've been meaning to write.
But it was not to be.
Just as sleep was showing up to knock me out, the shuffle of footprints began to pull me away from sweet oblivion. A small "mommy" forced my eyes open and I could see the silhouette of my toddler.
"Mommy, I puked."
Reaching over to tap the touch lamp that Hubby had so proudly given me for Christmas, the light only confirmed the truth of that little statement every mother dreads.
Sure enough, she stood before me covered from head to footie-jammy-covered-toes in remnants of the previous day's meals.
Hubby hadn't even stirred as he snored in perfect ignorance.
Sighing, I rolled out of bed. Setting Claira in the bathtub I set about removing sheets, starting the washer, and scrubbing the carpet.
And scrubbing the carpet some more.
And then again.
Claira was also washed and re-dressed, and tucked back into her newly cleaned bed.
Crawling back into bed, I figured it must have been something she ate.
A few minutes passed before I once again had to pull myself away from the faint edges of sleep to find Claira standing next to the bed.
"Mommy, I puke again."
After a repeat of the above mentioned cleaning round, Claira was once again tucked into bed.
Rinse, lather, repeat, rinse, lather, repeat.
This happened twice more (though truthfully each time was less gross than the previous one) before Hubby woke up enough to be informed as to what was happening.
I told him (lovingly of course) that it was his turn next.
And the last time Claira came in, he did indeed roll out of bed and help her.
So that pretty much shot any desire I had to wake up extra early to blog.
Anyhow, moving on from that.
Mother's Day this year was so low key this year I hardly even noticed it came.
Come Father's Day, it will be my turn to sleep all day.
Not that I'm holding a grudge about that or anything.
Pish, not me.
See? Even Jackson knows I'm joking.
I cut Hubby some slack since he had worked rediculously long hours all week.
But as dinner time approached I was loathe to try and make anything from the random items in our pantry since I hadn't gone grocery shopping in about three weeks.
Pancakes it was.
But being Mother's Day and all, I figured I would be a cool mom and try to make shapes. Specifically gingerbread shaped pancakes, because you know, they could sort of pass off for a person figure that I could tell my kids was a mom.
It was cool at first but then they wanted other shapes.
So there were a few giant easter chicks and a few pumpkins thrown in there as well.
But it wouldn't be Mother's Day for me without the notes my kids write.
Ah, thanks buddy!
Joseph's was a little more simple.
But he was really proud of it.
And I don't blame him! Gluing all those little pieces into the heart must have taken forever.
Since Savannah's class didn't do Mother's Day stuff, she took it upon herself to make me something anyway.
She said it looks just like me.
I suppose with my hair now ten inches shorter it kind of does.
I really wish I owned a dress like that though.
It would be awesome.
And the glasses. I need those glasses.
But as always, her notes are the best.
LOL! She is the queen of letters.
I hope the ones she writes as a teenager are just as awesome.
I had no idea what he had written, and no indication of what he would say.
But one of the first stories he started off with was how he had come home one day and the house was clean and nice, everything looked good and put together.
He came home the next day and it was the same way.
Came home the next day and it was the same, so he asked me what in the world I did all day.
The next day he came home, the house was a total disaster, the kids were running a muck, so he asked me what in the world happened?
I (supposedly) replied, you know that question you asked about what I do all day?
Well today I didn't do it.
I think most people know that is a old internet joke, but I knew the story wasn't true by the time he got to the third clean day.
Because I'm confident our house has never been clean three days in a row.