I had a dream last night that we had a little baby girl, but had left the hospital without finding out how much she weighed or how long she was.
Alas, it was only a dream.
Baby is still incredibly happy on the inside. Every morning, Graeme has been commenting, "I can't believe we're waking up in our own home again this morning." Or, "I can't believe we're still here."
Nope, neither can I.
Today's agenda: made plaster of paris letters with the boys using a kit that Gramma Rita gave them for Christmas (yup, took a while to get to it!). We have another friends' birthday party to go to today. And I want to make ice cream slushies. The ice-cream maker canister is already in the freezer.
As you can see, my to-do list is getting a little less serious. That's because there's not really much left on it, aside from an insane number of workouts.
Last night I attacked the rec room with big rubbermaid bins and started clearing out toys. The kids are sooo spoiled... and I might add that about 90% of it was NOT given to them by their mommy and daddy. So I put a bunch of it away, ready to rotate in a couple of months and swap for toys that are currently sitting on the shelf. Now I have to attack the family room the same way, however, I'm thankful that much of it is actually just j.u.n.k. To be tossed. Gone.
Graeme thought that with my sudden cleaning frenzy last night (I even had the spray bottle and cleaning rags!), that I'd for sure go into labour...
But no. Baby still cozy.
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