(no subject)
7:30am Select hockey practice for Tristan
10am house league skills for Tristan
12:30 gymnastics for Riley
3:30 Hockey lessons for Riley
In between all the schlepping around I managed to squeeze in some grocery shopping. Since we got home there's been dinner and lunches making, 3 loads of laundry, baths and haircuts for both boys and bathroom cleaning. Cuz nothing says fun like cleaning the one toilet 4 people share, especially when 3 of them have penii and bad aim.
My fatness knows no bounds. I vaguely benember when I had the time and energy for healthy cooking and yoga.
Vaguely.
Now it's food in the car which would be fine if I could get on the ice with both of my sporting-a-six0pack kids. But no. The chauffeur just buys progressively larger pants and dies a little inside of shame.
Last night for the first time in months I made a delish pot if Thai soup and took it with me in a thermos to sustain me between all the kids sports and pizza runs. I've joined the yoga sanctuary around the corner from work and am trying SO HARD to squeeze in some much needed exercise and stress relief into my workday.
Writing on LJ? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I remember when I had small people who were small enough to not know what Select hockey was, let alone drag my ass around 6 days a week living it.
And that's only one of them.
I'm saying this not for sympathy but to remind myself to be a little bit gentle on myself. It is a helluva busy time but its fun busy I swear. Someday, probably sooner than in ready for, these small people will not be able to see the back of me fast enough.
Until then I'm soaking the blood and marrow out of every beautiful moment I can.
It's just hell on my LJ time :p
I owe Riley a bday letter. From March. My 2012 yearly meme sat open and unfinished so long Fratboy finally just closed the tab and killed what little writing I did manage. I had a birthday. Any one above ground is a good one. And Tristan's 8th birthday, and letter, fall in 2 days. I have like 20 people who will want food and a magician coming. And I kind of forget what Fratboy looks like cuz he's been working evenings.
I need moar soup. And a nap. Screw it, there's no shame in going to bed with the boys at 8 is there? Again?
Someday my regularly scheduled awesomeness will make a reappearance. Swear.
In the meantime I've actually been depressed that my sad old eggs can't make any more babies. Because a that's how insane they've made me.
Life is beautiful. I swear!
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