I’m more of a “place for everything and everything in its place” kind of gal. My house is never sterile clean (well, it’s happened once or twice, but it’s not on my quest list), but the house is almost always picked up. I hate debris on tables, counters, chairs, etc. For whatever reason, I’ve always been good with my kids eating a bit o’ dirt. Not so good with stuff all over the place. I’m not sure what this says about me as a person, but that’s how it is.
That said, I put mail and important papers in one of three places. ONLY in one of three places. EVER. So, why, AGAIN, are the birth certificates of Ian, Tim and Andy gone. Poof! Vanished. Poor Ian and Tim are dying to get their learner’s permits and they need a social security card to do that. But without birth certificates (which are not considered proof of identity by the social security administration only as the back up proof), we can’t get the stoopid social security cards. Kill me now. I’m my own recurrent nightmare.
I figure when I turn about 80 I will finally find my safest, secretest place for all of this stuff and the boys and I will have a good laugh. Until then, send don’t-hate-your-mom shields. Mostly, I think I’m a good mom, but when I am a bad mom, I’m really bad. :::sigh:::
In the meantime, WHO else knew that the time changed THIS weekend? I’m one of the weird, I love this time change. I thought it was another weekend away, though.
Great finger food for a party? Any recipes or thoughts? Kid-friendly is good but not necessary.
I’m waiting on the last load in the dryer. I know it’s not a big deal, but I savor these laundry-conquering moments.
Finally, in broken-record-mode, I will have to impale myself (a la The Omen) if I keep seeing these nasty commercials about male enhancement. Gag. Someone make it all go away. NOW! Really.