*Two of my kids take dance from a really wonderful teacher. She does everything she can to keep costs low so we can afford dance for our people. One of the way money is saved is the mothers of the dancers take turns making, buying or otherwise creating the costumes. I have paid as little as $7 for a darling costume--a heck of a lot different than $50 or more! Anyway, it was my turn. I ordered most of the costume from Old Navy. They sent the wrong tops. I returned them. They sent me the right tops, but only two (instead of six). They were sold out of larges. I decided to make some. They turned out like this:
I thought they were fun and cute, but they were rejected. All of that work for naught. I finally bought something else and got my second rejection. Now what?
*Second frustration: I keep getting nasty spam on my comments. I'm sorry if any of you happened to see them before I erased them. Erg!
My girls decided to take their own nail polish off one day. They left the lid off the remover and it spilled. Today I bought a brand new bottle. It was on the table (I was still putting things away) and someone spilled it, too. To make it worse, it spilled on paper which helped make these perfect lines on my table where the finish was completely removed.
*After waiting over 30 minutes for a program to download, at 90% completion, my baby clicked cancel.
*I went to use my camera and found the memory card full. Here is a sampling:
*After looking all over town for the "right" tops (which turned out to still be wrong), I was starving. I forced myself to not stop for tacos . . .or a bag of burgers . . . or a bucket of chicken . . . because I knew I had put last night's stew in the crock pot this morning and it would still be warm.
PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT
Stew set on Warm and left in the crock pot will mold.
In one day.
*My dishwasher is still broken and is starting to smell. If you judged by my belly alone, you would think I was 68 years old. I need to sweep--for the third time today. I miss my husband. It's cold. Someone is always touching me. My baby is dripping wet. Why? Growl. Gruff. Simper. Cry. Blow.
Okay. I'm done. Thanks for listening. (I'm living an incredibly happy life . . . there are just some days.)
If you need me, I'll be in my bed, on my new heated mattress pad, reading my book. And by need, I mean, you better be bleeding.