Altoid Boy

At this very moment, my entire HOUSE smells like Christmas. Or altoids. Or gingerbread. Take your pick. Whichever one you like best, know that I’m less than impressed with the situation.

Can you guess what happened not once, but twice in the past six weeks?

My beloved son discovered the most coveted industrial size bottle of ground cinnamon. He ate a good portion of it and then proceeded to dump the rest out and have a grand ol’ time with sensory play.

He’s in the bath right now, pouring water from one cup to the next, washing away the powdery scents of the holidays. I’ve added cinnamon to my shopping list (again).

And really, I can’t be mad at him. I was the one who didn’t put the cinnamon back where it belonged. Besides, the floor needed mopping to begin with.

Been A While…

I’ve been wanting to write for a while but fell into that trap that nothing was good enough to share or write about. Enough of that nonsense! To give myself a boost back into posting, here’s a Day In The Life from Sunday. It’s short, sweet and to the point. Petite, actually. 🙂

Early morning Sexton duties. I like how pretty the church looks during Lent.

Of course, poor Ella doesn’t care. The girlie is sick and running a fever from a double ear infection. 😦

Back home, breakfast is started.

Hot cereal in Pyrex bowls. Traditional Sunday breakfast since 2010.

We then spend literally 3 hours like this. I get quite a bit accomplished on Ella’s sweater and the kids absorb exorbitant amounts of Blue’s Clues while both ran fevers.

Lunch time arrives and naptime follows.

While the kids sleep, I discover that I spent 3 hours knitting Ella’s sweater incorrectly. So I shed a small tear, rip it out, and switch to my other work in progress.

Chatting it up with .

Miles wakes up before big sister and promptly eats half of my chocolate square.

Ella wakes up a while later and we make banana cake (again).

Sorting my button collection is a new way I seek my zen.

Sundays are our work Fridays AND Aaron doesn’t get home until exactly bedtime, so it’s frozen food night. Mama needs a break.

After bedtime taking almost 2 hours, I huddle around a cup of tea while indulging in 1999 teen angst (hello, Roswell!).

Goodnight.