Broken Fashion Plate

You can tell I'm having a difficult week because of the way I dressed today to take the kids to school. I wore my old Costco pajama top beneath my coat, the one I've been wearing since Tuesday. That's something I would never usually do. Usually, when I wear my pajamas out in public, they're no more than 24 hours old.

Take Monday, for example. The pajamas I wore to sign my children up for school for next year, at the first-come-first-served registration place, were less than 12 hours old. I think that's some kind of record. I even wore underwear underneath them, and I would have pulled on pants, too, had my much-more-awake-than-me mother not scream-whispered, "Don't get dressed! Just GO!" in my ear. She knew; she had run all the way from the school to my apartment, because my cellphone was off and I slept right through my ringing landline. I had set my alarm for 6:30 so that I could relieve my wonderful parents at 7, who were doing the early shift waiting in line. Lo and behold, registration started early, and now my mom doesn't need to have a stress test for quite awhile. She is clearly in better shape than me, because I ran the same distance, and I still feel like I've been hit by a Mack truck.

It was worth it, though. We got about 90% of the schedule we wanted. Bottom line is, WE GOT IN. Chalk one up for the little guy. Actually, the little guys.

Waste, Post-Haste

When Ty and I got married, his old bachelor “love seat” served briefly as our living room couch. I put a stop to that not quite as promptly as I did the sublet from his ex-girlfriend, or his old mattress, but with all due haste nonetheless. Said loveseat became mere extra seating, and, upon the arrival of Sage and Thyme, was further demoted to a baby-changing area. As they grew and the composition of their diets changed from primarily liquids to primarily solids, we even did away with the waterproof pad and towel that covered the upholstery.

In doing so, perhaps we were finally too hasty.

Things I’ve learned in the past week include, feces is a protein stain! Who knew? Vomit, apparently, is a protein stain as well, according to the good folks at Woolite Stain Solutions, who, by the way, have singlehandedly managed to save our living room rug, which is the most expensive household item we own that isn’t somehow connected with food or sleeping. Props to you, Woolite. Props to you.

And speaking of rugs...while I try not to strain my imagination in contemplating the protein stains that Ty’s loveseat saw before I came on the scene, I’m quite certain that they were obtained more enjoyably than its modern protein stains.