and the sky fell apart, heard the rain, i heard your heart

It's Friday and I know that only because we went to MyGym this morning. I'm guilty of mentally swapping out the days of the week for Ethan's daily activities: Kindermusik Day, MyGym Day, and so on. This MyGym Day is particularly special because I'm hoping that with the start of this weekend comes the start of some resumed normalcy around here. Being married to an accountant, the past few weeks have been rough at best and I've found myself frantically running around, declaring the house a disaster zone or observing five minutes before dinnertime that we have nothing to feed Ethan or trying to assure an overtired toddler that the dada! he's screaming bloody murder for will, in fact, be here when he wakes up the next morning. It's been me against fits of "no more work! No more dada work!" for far too long now. Two days ago I spent an hour diving into a pile of laundry that had been idly sitting by for a month begging to be properly put away and I felt victorious, immortal, heroic...and ready for bed. I've debated not leaving the house on days where I'm fairly certain all of my clothing is sitting in a dirty clothes hamper before slipping on yesterday's sweatpants and my hair is so thick, unruly and overdue for a haircut that it's still sopping wet in the morning after I washed it the night before. Everyone keeps stopping to tell me how great I look, a compliment meant because I'm four weeks into Body Back, but my gut reaction is to think they're patronizing me and hide in the corner and cry. I'm ready for normlacy, or even the warped variation of it that resides around here on a usual basis.

Speaking of normalcy, the strange, out-of-place cold fronts and super strange hail storms have seemed to have fled Florida as quickly as they came. The past few days have seen temperatures in the mid-to-high 90's and though it's been brutally hot, the kind of hot that burns your insides a little, it's been nice. Nice to have back days at the splash pad, at the beach, in Grandma's pool on afternoons where it's just so hot that a diaper simply has to make do as an adequate swimsuit because there is no staying out of the water. It seems our impending summer is on Ethan's mind, too, as the other afternoon he woke up from his nap and when I asked him what he dreamed of, he responded with: "Beach. Ice cream cone."

You and me both, buddy.


  1. What a great day. There is always something so great about a routine and sticking to it.

    BTW- I am loving your weather!

  2. that's cute that he dreamed of the beach and an ice cream cone
    hopefully tax season is over and he won't have to work as much now!


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