Since Grandma's been gone there has been more screaming, yelling, crying, lecturing, and messes in our home than I ever thought imaginable. Rachel has even threatened to run away--thank you, Rudolph--luckily she can't open the front door yet. And it's only been, what, three days? Wow.
We're surviving. The dishes are getting done. The laundry is kind of getting done. The house...well...no comment. We've done a few crafts and made it to play group. Rachel even went swimming...and almost drowned...but rescued herself by standing up (the water is only a foot deep) before I could jump in after her (I was on my way, trust me). We did not make it to yoga this morning. We need to make cookies for the Relief Society Christmas Party on Saturday. But before that we need to make it to church. It's not even Friday yet and I'm worried about making it to church on time. Yikes.
But I bathed the girls this afternoon so barring any catastrophes I think they should still be clean tomorrow.
And you all think it's bad that I called Miriam by Rachel's name? When I finished reading Aladin to Rachel I said, "In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen."
Rachel looked up at me and said, "You didn't mean to say that, Momma."
"You meaned to say 'the end.'"
Right you are, child, right you are. Can we all say sleep-deprived?
The really sad thing is that I know I had another funny story to tell on myself, but I truthfully can't remember what it is...