My Evening

Already a little tomboy, Sasha loves to play catch. This evening she mastered the art of throwing a ball while standing. And nobody was more proud of her than she was of herself, the little dickens. After I got the kids in bed I tried on a multitude of clothes trying to find something to wear to work tomorrow. Now that I have standards for what I have to wear I'm finding getting dressed in the morning to be a lot more difficult. I was just scraping by when it was warmer, but long-sleeve shirts and pants that fit me, match, aren't denim, and don't require the wearing of heels are basically non-existent in my closet. I even dug through the (overflowing) hamper of clothes that need to be mended, altered, and/or dyed and came up with one navy blue polo tunic length top that I had planned on turning into a regular shirt one day and that might look decent with my only pair of khaki pants. Just as I was leaving my closet to go to the basement to dig out my sewing supplies I heard footsteps on the stairs and some loud whimpering. It was Jordan, half asleep and grabbing himself. Assuming that he had to pee I told him to use my bathroom. He started crying harder and headed in the completely opposite direction. When I called out again that he could use my bathroom since it was the closest he turned around, but instead of coming back into my bedroom and heading for my bathroom he started down the basement stairs! When I finally grabbed him and got him set up at the toilet he stood there crying and peeing until he was almost done, at which point he dribbled all over the outside of my toilet and then tried to put the seat down. I stopped him, pointed out that he'd peed all over the place, and wiped up the pee while he stood there crying. Immediately thereafter he began to laugh hysterically, went back upstairs to his room, tucked himself back into bed and fell asleep. Ah the joys of parenting! Now I'm sitting here, wearing the polo-tunic thing, which I somehow managed to shorten half an inch too much, trying to muster the energy to figure out how to take in the sides so it isn't a-line. I really wish someone would just teach me how to sew - I hate fumbling around on my own.