Everything will be simple and eaten on paper plates. My painting project, which took two hours last time we did it, took all weekend and still isn't finished. Five coats of paint later, it's still not covering. My husband has been the model of patience. And then, last night, around ten o'clock, he screamed from the kitchen. Imagining spilled paint everywhere, I raced downstairs. Gallons and gallons of water were pouring from the dishwasher onto the floor. It didn't help to stop the dishwasher; it didn't help to change the cycle; I had to turn the water to the kitchen off completely. We moved pretty quickly, but the water flooded the kitchen and seeped through to the ceiling of the finished basement below. I'm just grateful he was down there. Usually, turning on the dishwasher is the last thing we doing before turning off the lights at night. If he hadn't been in the room, we'd never have known. The water would have run all night.
there are three unassembled bunkbeds in my living room. A neighbor who is moving gave them to us this weekend. Mike was so preoccupied with the paint that he didn't get to them. My big boys are all gone this week and Mike won't have another day off before the end of the month. I'm going to get used to seeing the beds there. Not a thing I can do about it. The rest of the house looks like we spent the weekend preoccupied with the kitchen while four children fought a virus that looked like strep and acted like strep but wasn't strep. I know this because I also visited Urgent Care over the weekend.
nothing exciting happens today. We've had some major changes in our extracurricular plans for the children and I need to spend some time on the phone information-gathering before tomorrow. And then there's that aforementioned house tending...
And that's it for now. I'm headed for the kitchen, now a cheery shade of yellow (sort of). Stuff happens. Often, it's not the "stuff" I planned.