What can I tell you:
Three boys went back to school on Monday.
The oldest followed on Tuesday.
I remembered quickly how much I hate packing lunches.
If I make mini pizzas for the boys to take to school do you make them up, cook them and then freeze them? Or make them up, freeze them then cook them the night before/morning of?
I have two children who don’t like eating sandwiches. WTF?
I’ve exercised every day this week.
I have a goal to be fit and fabulous for my 40th.
I’m still dreaming & scheming to get to NYC to celebrate turning 40.
I’m focusing on that as I see other friends announcing their plans & sponsorships to go to BlogHer in NYC in August.
I’ve been really taken aback by my excitement and exhilaration at Felix starting high school.
To the point I’m now starting to annoy myself. Calm the fuck down already.
Something’s happened to my libido. I’m not sure if it’s the standard ovulation-induced dramatic rise in desire or something longer lasting. Let’s not dwell on it for fear we jinx it for Chef.
I am thinking that the alarming level with which I
ogle stare gawk look at the boys next door with their abs and trails down into their board shorts and general YOUTH may be playing a part.
Just a maybe mind you.
It occurred to me that while I am *only* 15 years older than them they put me into a category with their parents.
This is spectacularly depressing.
Our boys now basically reside next door. I’m resolving feeling bad about this by baking stuff for the menboys. Or making extra spaghetti bolognese to take in to them. It’s an illness.
It’s raining. Again.
Have I mentioned how much I adore the rain?
There was a chance Chef was going to Bali for a work project. It didn’t eventuate but it was fun getting all ‘oh em gee you’ll need a passport! How exciting!’.
Jasper finds out his classroom teacher today. I’m suspecting it’ll be the one I defined as ‘creepy’ last year. Because clearly, that’s how things roll around here.