Cleaning out my shoes

This has been kind of a rough week. Nothing big, just a few pebbles in my shoe so to speak. But I thought I'd try to focus on the good things, you know, find the silver lining and such.

So . . . I was finally tired enough of the mess in our living room that I cleaned it up. Imagine that! (Sometimes it takes me a while to figure out that the reason stuff isn't getting done is that it is MY job. Better earn my keep.)

And also, I've made a lot of progress on the "special project" I've been working on for Simon (and eventually Oliver). If all goes well, I'll have something fun to show you all in a week or so.

In 2 hours I will have completed my visiting teaching for the month, which is something I've been really bad at and really trying to improve upon. Pardon me while I pat myself on the back.The hood. Simon loves it. He won't go outside without his sweaterhat on. He's usually wearing a read sweatshirt with a hood, but this picture is all I had. I'm reminded of the black sweater I had when I was 4 years old(ish). I wore that thing every day until even I could smell its . . . scent. And it made me want to hurl.

We have a new grocery store nearby. On Monday we were looking at the basil, all of which was looking old and kind of purple. The produce man saw me searching and told him to give him five minutes and I could have some of the new stuff in the back. He brought me a large, fresh bag of basil. I no longer feel quite so guilty about abandoning the other nearby grocery store.

Simon and I danced in the living room this morning. Well, actually, I kind of danced and he mostly wanted me to help him jump. Even if I've been a slacker runner lately, at least I'm getting a bit of a workout anyway.

Yesterday I talked to my sister on Skype. She was listening to the Taylor Swift station via Pandora. I was listening to the Taylor Swift station via Pandora. We must be sisters.Oliver. Bless his little heart. He loves to hear himself talk. I feel like I'm always saying Oliver is a good baby, but he screams a lot. Both of these things are true. It's a game for him, I think. He'll scream and smile and laugh and it makes my ears hurt and I just have to love him for it. I'm sure those lungs will make him very successful somehow. Also, he's a second child; he smiles if I look at him.

Everyone I know is pregnant. Or just was pregnant. This is only a slight exaggeration. It makes me happy. There are few things I love talking about more than pregnancy/childbirth/child-rearing and I'm thrilled to have more people to share the joy with. May you all have chubby babies with three chins by the time they are three months.