Do you ever have one of those days that, from the second you wake up, you know is going to be a long, long day? Of course you do. Everyone does. (If I'm wrong, and you don't, send me your pills.)
Today is one of those days. I had a board meeting last night, and it lasted longer than expected, and I was "appointed" secretary because of my absence at the last meeting where I was unanimously voted to fill the vacant position. Not a problem really as I tend to take copious notes anyway, and I don't mind typing them up. In fact, I've already gotten the minutes done as I wanted to get it done while I still knew what everything meant. After that, I decided to read a little of that Stephanie Plum book I mentioned yesterday because I needed a little funny. I ended up reading the whole thing, and I finally turned off the light at about 12:30. Not that late...not Twilight late at least.
I should've known better, though. I should've known that it's 20 some odd degrees outside and that I wasn't going to want to get out of bed even before I deprived myself of a couple of hours of sleep. Either way, my daughter miraculously slept an extra 45 minutes, so when I hadn't budged at 7:15, it wasn't a big deal. Dragging myself out of the warm bed was still difficult, but I managed to get my teeth brushed and the bed made and a cup of coffee brewed before S woke up. However, it's one of those days. Coffee doesn't sound good. A big gulp full of a sugary Cherry Coke sounds good. An entire bottle of Excedrin sounds good to combat the wicked headache that I've had for two hours. A sackful of Taco Bell sounds good because you know it's not a day for eating healthy. I think I should go back to bed.
On the flipside, S is having a blast climbing onto the end table, which though M requests that she not do, I tend to allow as long as she "pays attention." I remind her every now and again to make sure she's not sitting on the edge...or to make sure she sees what's on the sofa before she dive bombs it. I'm probably a horrid mother for allowing this, but I can't seem to get her to stop, and I don't actally care that much. M feels differently, and as I'm putting this out there for the world to see, I imagine I'll hear about it later. (I love you, honey. Don't be mad at my horrendous parenting skills and complete lack of couth.)
Okay, I'm off to chase the toddler away from Otis's water bowl for the umpteenth time this morning. Have a great hump day, peeps.