Thursday, February 3, 2011

My top hurts.

I had high hopes of achieving a few things tonight. The truth of the matter though is my top hurts. That's my new favorite way to say I have a headache. My 3 year old taught me that, "mom, my top hurts...my hair".
This job does that to me sometimes, leaves me with a hurting top. But now, while they're all sleeping peacefully it's amazing how much my top suddenly feels better, maybe not better but lighter.
Despite the best attempts at drama, bedtime stalling, and undoing of any cleaning I may have accomplished during the day, they are pretty darn sweet, and I love them like crazy. My house is a mess, I can't even begin to think of where to start or when I'll be able to address that but at the moment, I'm going to look at the ceiling to avoid gazing upon the mess on my way across the house to bed  (a path that could potentially be dangerous to life and limb to walk it blind) and hope that my sock doesn't stick to the floor...or at least more than once...

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