A few weeks ago a good friend of mine mentioned this thing called a Herman. I knew then that I should not have not chimed up but I did – it was like one of those childhood moment when you knew you shouldn’t do it but since all your friends were doing it, you did it too. Five days ago, via Facebook, this same friend said that Herman was ready to for me (and three others). It took me a good whole minute to figure out who/what this Herman was. My mind went sorting through the folds of my brain
Hubby thinks I suck at cleaning because I grew up with a maid (or three). I disagree. I know people who didn’t grow up with (or ever even had) a housekeeper who is not good at house cleaning. Personally, I think I am not too shabby. I dust, sweep, mop, etc. well enough (hubby think a lot can be improved). My issue, the reason why I “suck” at it, is: I hate don’t like it. I clean because I have eeky bathroom phobia, get itchy skin, and in general rather live in a clean and tidy place than a messy one.
A haircut that is. It’s about time, don’t you think? The problem is though, Jovie does not like scissors, or strangers. Getting Jovie to stay still while being trimmed is like trying to yank a lollipop out of her little hand – this girl LOVES her lollies!! It’s not too bad looking I suppose but I think sometimes before she starts pre-school this girl will need to learn how to stay calm during a trim. I have tried a few times to get some scissors near her but each time she always freaked out. A hairdresser told me to do
Sometimes, when nothing exciting seems to happen in our lives, we tend to forget that there is always something to be thankful about and to celebrate even (a few high fives here and there). The last week or two have been like that here. But, I want to remind myself of what we have and what each of us have accomplished the last few weeks. Jovie is better at potty training Jovie is extremely polite M is in the next stage of swimming lessons We’re so glad M changed gymnastics club Hubby got a new position I got to dress
Pregnancy, I swear, is as long as it is so that us women (and men to some point) can learn a little more about patience. I remember before I had Emma, or even after, how I’d get impatient waiting for my turn to see the doctor. I thought it was horrible to have to wait 30 minutes sans Internet, smart phones, text messaging system, etc. Doctor’s offices’ magazines can only go so far – at least for me. Then Emma came along and not only did I have to wait for my own appointments I had to wait for Emma’s
Two Sundays ago we were invited to have lunch at our friends’ home. Two o’clock in the afternoon she said and I said great. Sunday came along, 11 a.m., and hubby said, “Shouldn’t we be getting ready to leave for lunch?” I said, “No, we don’t need to be there until 2 p.m. Why don’t you have lunch?” Hubby looked at me, confused, and said, “I thought we’re going there for lunch?” I replied, “Yes, Sunday lunch or roast. It’s later. We’ll probably eat at 4.” More confused, hubby said, “But that’s like dinner.” I told him that we’ll just