of my purse. I chaperoned my son's zoo field trip yesterday and one of the little boys decided he was completely done with his snack and so here, lady, hold this for me and also buy me an icee. (I didn't buy him an icee.)
|I call this one 'Sebastian at the zoo.'|
I blame the (totally non-paleo) animal cracker consumption on my current coma-like state, which I blame on my husband.
He was out of town for the past few days and so hasn't been home to tell me to put down the margarita and go to bed.
I kind of like staying up late. It's quiet, I'm alone. I can sew in peace without my daughter 'helping' by holding the little wheel turny thing (the scientific name, obviously) that makes the sewing machine sew, thus stopping any progress. Or without my son randomly switching out my bobbin thread because "blue is my favorite color, Mom."
Last night was probably not the best time to stay up extra late as I'd already stayed up extra late the night before. But I didn't listen to myself because I was soclose to finishing a project. So I ignored my exhaustion and set up the kindle to play episodes of Ripper Street on Netflix and sewed one and a half shirts. (The half was already halfway finished before I started yesterday. Because I'd already stayed up extra late the night before working on it.)
I told myself the entire time I was sitting there that I would regret staying up, that I needed to get to bed because tomorrow (now today) would be so much harder and also I'd have to face getting two kids ready by myself plus I needed a shower and couldn't fake it by just putting up my hair because I'd already done that one day and couldn't do it for two in a row.
So I went to sleep at 11:30 and woke up before 5 for no reason at all other than my body hates me. Or maybe it doesn't hate me, maybe it's like a dog that can sense storms coming and woke me up early so I would be prepared for the horrible hail/wind/rain/thunder/lightning episode we were blessed with at 5:06 a.m. My daughter woke up scared from the pre-storm lightning so I brought her downstairs and then the hail slammed against my bedroom window so loudly that I seriously thought it was going to shatter all over us. I didn't want to leave Adele to go get Sebastian, who I was sure was peacefully sleeping and oblivious.
Once it calmed down, however, I checked on him and found him up and scared and so felt like a horrible mother. I brought him downstairs, too, so we all cuddled together for about 20 minutes that were filled with kicks and jumps and hugs and kisses until I couldn't take it anymore and got up to take a shower.
So really I can't be blamed for the animal crackers, is what I'm saying.
Or for the copious amounts of caffeine I will be partaking in today.
(I'm currently listening to Lou Reed's Walk On the Wild Side and it makes me feel things. Probably because I'm in a coma.)
(Here is a picture of one of the shirts I finished last night. It's the Tiny Pocket Tank by Grainline Studio. I'm only showing you now because I want you all to admit that I am the queen of Me Made May photos as I take them in poor lighting using my dirty bathroom mirror, which I like to refer to as 'the artistic way'.)