The battle on the homefront this morning started with a confrontation from Little Miss General. She demanded a cookie. The defense projected that perhaps a bowl of cereal would be much tastier. Truth be told, I wouldn't have minded kicking the day off with a cookie either, but what kind of example would that set, right?
After deliberating on this for a half a moment, The General scowled and proceeded to shout that she NEEDED a cookie. It's 6:30 a.m. I replied. Negotiating with a stern preschooler is not the best route-I know. To spare you the details of the long drawn out debacle, I will say that in the end I won-sort of. Most of the food ended up on the table and she ate clad only in teeny underpants.
I'm not sure if it was just that every one got up on the wrong side of the bed, or if it was the excitement of Valentine's Day, but no one was interested in eating their delicious breakfasts. I even sang a catchy little tune about potassium trying to rally the troops to eat their bananas. They giggled and thought I was pretty funny (for about a second).
Wolfing down my own breakfast while trying to bounce the baby on my hip, I glared at the pile of laundry on the couch. It beckoned me to come in there and fold it. Part of me could have probably mustered up the energy, but here it is roughly 4 hours later and still there it sits and here I blog.
Among the other things that must be accomplished today are vacuum, dig up some old paperwork for tax purposes and dream up something superb for a romantic dinner.
(1) Vacuuming - To be honest, this is a chore I actually enjoy. There's something refreshing about a freshly cleaned floor not to mention the quick little workout that comes with it.
(2) Paperwork - I try to be organized; really, I do. I have the best intention of compiling everything monthly throughout that year so that come tax time I won't have to hunt things down. Needless to say, I wasn't organized again this year.
(3) Romantic dinner - Who am I kidding? The husband will probably want to order out. The kids will want chicken nuggets and something equally less desirable to accompany it. In my head I envision I free babysitter popping out of the woodwork to whisk the kids away so the man and I can eat filet mignon by candlelight. *sigh*
Suddenly, I'm snapped back to reality. It sounds like the Little General is trying to bully her big sister again. Off to intervene...
After deliberating on this for a half a moment, The General scowled and proceeded to shout that she NEEDED a cookie. It's 6:30 a.m. I replied. Negotiating with a stern preschooler is not the best route-I know. To spare you the details of the long drawn out debacle, I will say that in the end I won-sort of. Most of the food ended up on the table and she ate clad only in teeny underpants.
I'm not sure if it was just that every one got up on the wrong side of the bed, or if it was the excitement of Valentine's Day, but no one was interested in eating their delicious breakfasts. I even sang a catchy little tune about potassium trying to rally the troops to eat their bananas. They giggled and thought I was pretty funny (for about a second).
Wolfing down my own breakfast while trying to bounce the baby on my hip, I glared at the pile of laundry on the couch. It beckoned me to come in there and fold it. Part of me could have probably mustered up the energy, but here it is roughly 4 hours later and still there it sits and here I blog.
Among the other things that must be accomplished today are vacuum, dig up some old paperwork for tax purposes and dream up something superb for a romantic dinner.
(1) Vacuuming - To be honest, this is a chore I actually enjoy. There's something refreshing about a freshly cleaned floor not to mention the quick little workout that comes with it.
(2) Paperwork - I try to be organized; really, I do. I have the best intention of compiling everything monthly throughout that year so that come tax time I won't have to hunt things down. Needless to say, I wasn't organized again this year.
(3) Romantic dinner - Who am I kidding? The husband will probably want to order out. The kids will want chicken nuggets and something equally less desirable to accompany it. In my head I envision I free babysitter popping out of the woodwork to whisk the kids away so the man and I can eat filet mignon by candlelight. *sigh*
Suddenly, I'm snapped back to reality. It sounds like the Little General is trying to bully her big sister again. Off to intervene...
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