The one where I don’t leave you hanging…

 

What is it about me writing posts that leaves my readers hanging?

I. am. sorry.

Truly.

Please let me explain.

My parents invited me to visit.

Me.

Only ME!

And I started envisioning adult conversation.

And eating out.

And shopping.

So when the hubs agreed to watch the kidlets for 24 hours…I grabbed my bags and braved the elements.

Ice and snow did not deter me.

I had the most wonderful 24 48 hours ever!

I ate.

And laughed.

And cried.

And ate.

And shopped.

Did I mention we ate?

And I didn’t cook once.

I felt twelve all over again.

Minus the over-processed perm.

And mall bangs.

My parents spoiled me rotten.

I do love some good spoilin’…I find it a wonderful quality in a person.

The time came for me to return home.

I tried to imagine my husband, completely exhausted.

Begging me to never leave again.

Repeating over and over, “How do you do it?”

What I didn’t expect?

My kitchen to be painted.

And five things off the honey-do list to be done.

Which left me saying, “How did he do it?”

Not Me! Monday

 

Welcome to Not Me! Monday.

The place where I confess all my imperfections and shortcomings.

Or not.

It’s MckMama’s fault.

I will blame her.

Let the confessional begin…

I have not been home for three days.

Against my will.

And it would have nothing to do with snow and ice.

Schools were not cancelled today.

And they certainly are not delayed two hours tomorrow.

That would be ridiculous.

I do not have cabin fever.

So tonight… I did not jump in my suburban (sans children) and head westward.

I did not leave my children in the sometimes not so sure totally capable hands of my husband.

He will not have to get three children ready for school tomorrow.

He will not have to prepare lunches.

Or snacks.

He will not have to deliver children to different schools.

On time.

He will not have to pick up children from school.

Or basketball practice.

He will not have to run carpool.

He will not have to help with homework.

Or take Claire to dance.

Nope, not him.

And I will not be shopping.

Or napping.

Or eating out.

Not me.

And I certainly will not be hoping that he is just a little exhausted when I return.

Labels, Labels, Everywhere!

 

Thanks for your permission to take a little nap yesterday.

And by little I mean 15 minutes.

Power naps are the new black.

Those were 15 glorious minutes though.

Anyhoo.

I decided that today I would share a little of my OCD.

My neurosis if you will.

The one that causes me to alphabetize, well…everything.

And label everything else.

Mr.. Because Wendi Said So bought me a label maker for Christmas.

Which made me fall in love with him all. over. again.

I started removing all the old labels from containers and boxes.

I then proceeded to use an entire roll of labeling tape.

In two hours.

I then made  asked (in my sweetest voice) Mr.. Because Wendi Said So to get off his keister and buy me some more.

He did.

And then I went about relabeling my pantry.

 

Everything got a fresh label.

A face lift.

I can’t tell you how excited I get when I fling open the pantry doors looking for Oreo's rice cakes.

Now if I could just get the hubs to put a fresh coat of paint in there….

Give me your tired…

I am tired.

Actually tired doesn’t begin to describe it.

Exhausted.

No.

Near deaths door.

Now we’re talking.

I am not sure if it is because I had two of my three kids home the last four days.

Or because they had friends over.

Or because I had to break up 526 fights.

Or because I had to do 4,518 loads of laundry.

Or because I had to answer the phone 189 times.

Or because my doorbell rang ten times.

Or because yesterday also involved basketball practice, dance, scouts, a PTA board meeting (that I never made it to), and working the concession stand.

Or because after toting three children to basketball practice, dance, scouts, and a friends house I had to take a test.

Three tests to be exact.

Which happened to be two hours each.

You do the math.

And… I didn’t start on them until 9:30pm.

Would you judge me if I crawled back into bed right now?

Not Me! Monday

 

Welcome one and all to my weekly edition of Not Me! Monday.

A place where I can confess all the things I have not done this week.

Won’t you join me?

I am not home again with two of my children today.

Nope not me.

The school would never schedule a teachers workday one week after a holiday.

Can you imagine?

And they certainly wouldn’t schedule a workday two days in. a. row.

************************************
I did not have a moment of complete insanity.

And it did not have anything to do with letting my five year old have his very first sleep over last night.

Definitely not.

I did not live to tell about it.

It did not go surprisingly well.

I did not walk in on a conversation between the two five year olds and think they were discussing child labor laws.

Seriously.

I did not discover upon further investigation that in fact they were discussing how Batman lasers bad guys on the Wii
.
Same thing…right?

**********************************
My dear blog friend Krystyn did not bring to my attention that my email had somehow been disabled.

She is not thoughtful.

Try as I might, I could not get it to work.

I did not then ask Krystyn how to fix the problem.

She did not refer me to this post.

Laughter did not ensue.

The post was not one I had written myself explaining how to do the very thing that was perplexing me.

I do not feel silly.

**********************
Now is your turn.

What haven’t you done this week?

Pink Apples and Purple Pears ...Oh my!

Nineteen years.

Nineteen years of marriage.

And let's not forget the years of dating.

But who's counting?

You would think my husband knew most things about me.

Important things.

Like the way I like my towels folded.

Or how I like my eggs.

And how I have aversions to printed paper towels.

What?

Tell me I am not alone.

Just yesterday I asked Mr. Because Wendi Said So to pick up some paper towels on his way home from work.

Easy request.

Only not so much.

He brought home paper towels of the printed variety.

Of the pink apple and purple pear variety.

Who has a pink apple and purple pear theme going on in their kitchen these days I ask you?

Certainly not me.

I then asked him if he knew of my notsofondofprintedpapertowels issues.

He of course said he had no idea.

Bless. his. heart.

I wonder what else he doesn't know.

Hmmm...

If you are visiting me this week and need a paper towel, you can find them stored under the sink.

Way in the back.

Not Me! Monday

Well my friends it is Monday.

And we know what that means.

Yes, it is time to strip the beds and start the laundry.

But that wasn't what I was talking about.

I am talking about confessions of the Not Me! variety.

Thanks to MckMama for hosting this weekly confessional.

It always makes me feel better.

Oh how I have missed this little 'fessing up time!

I have not been attempting to put all the Christmas boxes and ribbons around here in the attic.

Nope, not me.

It is the middle of January for heavens sake and that would be ridiculous.

I have not procrastinated the assent into the attic for fear of freezing my hinney-bones off.

It has not been like 35 degrees here which would make the attic -35.

I am not just a little bit tired of the labeled red and green boxes that are lining my hallway.

I am not even more tired of the freezing temperatures in eastern North Carolina.

I am not ready for spring.

And sunshine.

And fresh air.

I have not been watching my 13 year old workout with his P90X.

I have not started sweating just watching him.

I am not considering attempting this workout.

I am not hoping that someone will leave me a comment and talk me out of that insanity.

And especially not NOW!

I am not home today in celebration of MLK day.

And I am certainly not home with all three kiddos.

I am not excited about school tomorrow.

Not. one. little. bit.