By Heather O.
I love this time of year–honestly it’s my favorite. When I lived up north, fall was my favorite, but after moving down south, I’ve decided there is nothing more beautiful anywhere than a southern spring. It’s all kinds of glorious.
I actually have a secret for that:Breathe Right strips. It sounds super dorky (which they are) and they don’t do much for your sex appeal, but they work really really well for the nighttime sufferer of allergies, especially for people who aren’t keen on taking lots of meds. I have had a really hard time sleeping at night, just because I can’t quite breathe. And I don’t sleep deeply because I’m not breathing very well. I finally broke down and got those strips (they aren’t cheap, which is a bummer), and for the past 3 nights I have had the best night sleep all season. I can finally look in the mirror and not see huge giant bags under my eyes. The bags under my eyes are now only normal sized.
They are also an excellent alternative for the pregnant woman who wants to avoid taking even more Benedryl (I just assume ALL pregnant women take Benedryl to curb the constant puking, but I may be projecting from my own experience a little here.).
In other news, my son walked into my bedroom this morning, fully dressed for school. He was wearing a blue and grey striped shirt and green camo pants. It hurt my eyes to look at all that pattern clash. I looked at him, pointed to his outfit, and said, “This doesn’t work.” He looked down and said, “What? What doesn’t work?” I just shook my head and said, “You can not wear stripes with camo. You just can’t. Pick a different shirt, or pick different shorts.” He sighed and stomped off to his room, but returned wearing grey shorts that nicely complimented the grey in his shirt. I gave him a thumb’s up, and as he rolled his eyes and left, I chuckled to my husband, in a “boys will be boys” kind of way. He said, “I don’t get it. What was wrong with his first outfit?”
This is what happens when the color-blind father supervises the fashion oblivious son. Someday I won’t be there to save them from themselves.
Little Sister learned to make toast this morning. I painstakingly explained to her how to do it, then hopped in the shower. I could smell the toast from the bathroom, so I assumed she was successful. How successful became evident when she greeted me in the shower with SIX pieces of toast. “Look, Momma, I did it!”
Yes. Yes you did, child. And I’m so glad it took a half a loaf of bread for you to do it.
No random crap post would be complete without mention of my dog. Poor dog, she’s struggling a little. Her hormones are all wacky, and she’s having trouble with her bladder control. And when a 105 pound dog loses control of her bladder, well, it’s a LOT of pee. She’s usually impeccably housebroken, but didn’t quite manage last night, and we woke up to a large puddle in the playroom. We did our best to clean it up this morning, and I sprayed some Febreze around the house after I sprayed the spot with Nature’s Miracle, just to freshen up the place. I had to run out this morning for a bit, and when I came back, our house smelled like pee and Febreze. Well done, Febreze.
I took Little Sister to J’s school today for their annual Walk-a-thon. After the walk-a-thon, we strolled through the school, while I pointed things out to her. I took her over to the Kindergarten rooms, just so she could see where she would be going next year, as we will be registering her next month. Yes, my daughter is going to KINDERGARTEN next year. I felt the irrational desire to carry her back to the car, to pretend she still needed me to do so. She squawked in protest, and then we turned it into a game, with her trying to escape and me trying to hold her. It was fun, and we laughed, but it made me want to cry.
I always made fun of those women who cry when their children go to Kindergarten. Boy, what a soft shell I’ve turned out to be.
Happy Spring everybody!
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