Wait, allow me to preface this.
When the twins came home from school on Monday, I saw that they had ExP letters in their binders. It seems that they'll both be participating in extra math tutoring every Tuesday at 2:30PM for an hour. Until the end of March. The math nerd in me is all That's great! The mother in me is all HOLY CRAP WE'RE A FAILURE!!!
This morning dawned with a ridiculous schedule. 2:30PM? Pick up Jarrod. 3:20PM? Load Jarrod into the car to pick up Heath at 3:30. 4:20PM? Leave Heath and Jarrod (ssssshhhhhh.... don't tell DFACS!) to pick up Amelia from her art workshop at 4:30. Then? Spend the next hour listening to Amelia sob and cry that she can't play with her friends, fix dinner, make them eat dinner, and then Jarrod goes off to taekwondo.
This whole motherhood thing is great? But I think I need to go to Fiji. For 20 years.
Hope Chicago is drier than it is here. (Wait... hang on. I'll check the weather... yep dry with wind.) As I'm typing this, it's thundering and raining quite hard and Macy is downstairs trying to convince Tyler that there's an apocalypse afoot.
The kids and I called Randy yesterday and sang Happy Birthday to him. I couldn't tell if he was chuffed or confused. Your husband is a hard nut to crack.
At any rate, I went over to Jeremy's apartment last night to record a podcast during which we geeked out over the whole "ZOMG!! FLOWING WATER ON MARS!" news for a solid 40 minutes. Said podcast will be up tomorrow (just go here) and feel free to listen if you are so inclined. Jeremy lamented that his Instagram account wasn't being used very much so I obliged him with a selfie:
Da bears, ya'll!
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