Let Me Tell You Where My Children's Tongues Have Been

The husband has flown the coop.  Mark is in Edmonton right now with his family.  They went to a hockey game last night and he is spending the day there today and will be back home tomorrow.  If I'm honest I could sit here and right a post ranting about how left out and lonely I feel, but it's really not so bad.  And I hate being a downer, so no rant today!

Instead I will ramble on about nonsense so I can avoid the productive tasks that I should be doing, like cleaning out our pets' cages and cleaning out the deep freezer so that my fridge freezer doesn't pop open at the least provocation.

Or I could even unpack more boxes in the hopes that my printer power cord will be found because as of this minute, it is still missing.  I never realized before I lost it how important it is to my life.  I'm starting to feel a little panicky about it.  Because, I mean, it's been three weeks I think since we've been here and it still hasn't surfaced.  That can't be a good sign.

Yesterday was a beautiful day.  In the sun it was just plain hot!  I love spring.  It's such a happy feeling when things warm up.  Yes, it is supposed to snow again (so I've heard) but I console myself with the fact that the snow usually melts by afternoon.  And my kids love to eat snow, so that makes them happy.

Actually, let me tell you about my snow-eating kids.  They love snow so much that they will eat it from anywhere: the ground, from the bottoms of their boots, from cars.  They eat clean snow and muddy snow, they don't discriminate.  I cannot get them to stop licking cars that have snow on them.  Or even cars that are just wet.  Lick, lick, lick.

Maybe I should ask my Mom-in-law if Mark had a penchant for licking cars when he was younger because I sure don't remember doing that.

A Raw Moment

Bad days happen.

Bad-mom moments happen.

I must accept this.

I am not perfect.

Most of the time I am not even half-perfect.

Mostly, I am just a very, very, very flawed person.

So when I get incredibly frustrated with my children for seemingly being deaf to my voice while they are sitting not even 2 feet away, and possibly react in a way that is not in the best interests of anybody in the house, I will breath, apologize, hug them, maybe cry, and realize that I am the perfect candidate for a Saviour and thank God that He has given me one.

Thoughts From My New Living Room

I am sitting in my "new" house, thinking of Facebook status updates that I could write.  Like:

"You know a house is turning into your home when your husband is playing Halo and you are busy on Pinterest."

or

"The new house is officially broken in.  The floor has been peed on three times, and not by a pet."

or

"Somebody come find me my cordless phones.  I have the base set up but can't answer the phone when it rings."

No, I don't have better things to do with my time.  (Don't look at all the boxes around me.  They aren't real at the moment.)

As a side note, I always feel funny calling houses new when they are actually old houses.  They are new-to-me, but not new in themselves.  So I always say the word with quotations in my mind.