In other news:
Both Wee One and I have been sick all week. Fun. Clingy, sad baby makes me feel bad. I can't seem to make it any better. I'm starting to feel a little better, but I think she's still stuck in the middle of it, poor thing. I'm a bad mom, I just want to take the batteries out so I can be sick. I may be too self-centered to be a mom some days.
I have discovered a show that's even better than Cops. Inside America Jail follows the booking process. Talk about great American television.
I've done ten loads of laundry in the last two days. This is what happens when no laundry gets done for almost three weeks. I hate laundry. It is the domestic equivalent of having teeth pulled. I also have yet to fold any of said laundry, so if you plan on visiting in the next day or two don't expect to have somewhere to sit, my couches are otherwise occupied.
I have also worked out a mental game plan to find skinny me, however, I am not yet willing to commit so it will have to wait. Accountability, even to you interwebs, sort of blows.
So, I have decided that I love this blog of yours. It makes me feel like I'm not the only one that feels like a failure in Mormon mommyhood. What a stressed life to live! Seriously! There are so many high expectations and too many short falls on my part. Laundry is no doubt the CRAPPIEST chore in the entire world. I told Jeremy, before we were married, that putting away laundry will always be his job. The thing for me is getting it to the washer, then dryer, then pile. I know it's not rocket science. Sometimes, I think rocket science would be easier. I also thing that sometimes laundry mats are easier. Being able to use 20 washers and dryers at the same time, that rocked! Two hours, laundry done! I know that having a washer and dryer is convienent, but crap, if there was just some way to make laundry fun. The only fun I have is when my husband washes his ridiculous red MC Hammer pants from his mission in with my clothes and turns everything pink. Riveting!
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