sometimes boys are gross

Time seems hectic lately. I didn't want to start the New Year off like this. It must be me and the way I process the endless to-do list. There is always stuff on the calendar, that is a given. How can I learn to tackle the have to's and make time for the stuff I want to do? I must work on this.

This morning I crammed a whole day's worth of playing, cleaning, and cooking into three hours. Sam has a Dr appt 2.5 hours away, to get his toe nail removed (gag me with a spoon), I am nervous about this drive, about the pain he will be in and the sight of it. I have a weak stomach and can faint just at the smell of antiseptic. This is not a good quality to have when you are mother to many. Someday perhaps I shall blog a list of places I have fainted. It is absurd, as there is no elegant way to pass out and vomit.

As I was putting on my make up and consuming myself with new freckles and wrinkles, I started smelling bananas. Henry was watching Sesame Street and my keen mothering ears hadn't heard anything out of the ordinary (like the bar stool sliding across the kitchen or the pitter patter of little feet walking right past my bathroom while holding a bunch of bananas) but luckily my mothering instincts told me just to peek. This is what I found:

At least it was bananas and not choc as I had just put on his last pair of clean pants that aren't three inches too short.

That's my story today.