It's a snowy, rainy, overall yucky day here in eastern Canada... shocker I know.
I just got back from my spending four hours at my sisters house... punishment for her telling me to pick Jane up early because the "roads were bad" when, in fact, the roads were fine. So I called her and said "what are we having for supper? I'm coming over because Dan's out tonight for frisbee and I'm not entertaining this crazy two-year-old for the next four and a half hours and the roads are fine by the way..." We had ribs. Yum.
I'm feeling lucky today. Lucky to live in a warm, beautiful home. Lucky to have a job I love where I am surprised regularly by the support and understanding I get from my boss and colleagues. Lucky to have a sister with a slow cooker who can read a recipe fairly well (Nanc, I'm leaving out the part where you were asking about how to "cut the batter" when the recipe said to "cut in the butter"). Lucky to have a daughter who makes me laugh and love soooo hard. Lucky to have a husband I only want to kill half of the time. Lucky to have the will power to refrain from strangling the kitten who just jumped onto the couch leaving claw marks in my arm.
Some of you may know, but we just moved into a new house in the Fall. Since then, the number one question I get from people I haven't talked to in a while is "hows the new house?!?!?" And, honestly, I fake it. I tell them how much we love it, how great it is, how it's everything we wanted and needed and more and blah blah blah. Truthfully, I could give a damn about my house. Is it beautiful? Yes. It is our dream house? Yes. It is more than we imagined? Yes. Would I care if it was gone tomorrow? Nope. I'm thankful that, since having Jane, I've realized that all this "crap" we have... means nothing. If you don't have your health, if your child is sick, if your marriage sucks, if you don't have happiness, a house ain't gonna make you smile at the end of the day. So I appreciate the things I have but I can't really say that I'm peeing in my pants to talk about how great my new house is. I pee in my pants... but it's usually only if I sneeze, cough or laugh really hard. OH, and if I decide to randomly do jumping jacks, which thankfully I've learned to avoid. :p
Yesterday, I went to a restaurant for lunch to do some paperwork and planning. A nice restaurant. I had an $11 salad and bread dipped in olive oil and balsamic vinegar. And, while I was upstairs eating at this fabulous place, an armed robbery was going on downstairs in the mall. When I left the restaurant, the cop cars and ambulances (no one was hurt) were pulling up and I was half considering snooping at what was going on but wrote it off as a fight or heart attack or something (you know, nothing exciting... I know, I'm going to hell). When I got home last night, I saw the news about the armed robbery. Downstairs and six stores over. That's the closest I've ever been to a gun. That's lucky. I'm lucky to live in a country that the closest I've ever been to a truly dangerous weapon in thirty years is downstairs and six stores over...
This is your nonsense for a yucky Friday that I am so happy to have shared with my family and beautiful baby.