Lost or Found?

Mittens that have been seperated from their pair, hats without a head to keep warm, shoes left abanonded and even a video game grieved over by a the owner who might have even worked double chore duty to earn it…all thrown into a large blue bin at my son’s school marked “Lost and Found”. Most of these items will never get claimed because kids just don’t think to look there or most likely they don’t even realize that they have lost something.

God’s word, the new ginger ale?

3:00 in the afternoon is brutal.  The zombies come out of their offices at that time, eyes half opened with change in their hand looking for the vending machine which will provide the much needed chocolate or caffeine fix.  I remember a time those inevitable 3:00 yawn fests were the hardest thing to get through in the afternoon -but now I find myself sitting at my desk, change in very close reach throughout the entire day, with my only desire to get to the vending machine and not find all the ginger ale sold out.  To a pregnant woman (yes we will have a new blessing in our home in just 6 months!), well at least to this pregnant woman, ginger ale is the salvation to getting through the day.  *Side note: I half expect to go into the office one morning and find that my office has been relocated to the washroom.  I seem to spend just as much time in there these days as I do in front of my computer!

Get your gear on!

The smell of winter is in the air.  A dusted off car scraper is now in my trunk.  Hats and gloves are now officially on call and alarms will soon have to be set earlier to deal with all the extra steps and layers of clothing needed before the wrestling match to the car commences.  Wait a sec, I just had an encouraging thought!  More layers means less mobility to a 22 month old right?  This means I will probably win the wrestling match to the car and into the car seat quicker and I might even make it to work in a non sweaty state for once!  Hopeful thinking?  I’ll let you know how my plan unravels!

To cling or not to cling?

Life is hectic.  It doesn’t matter how hard I try, I still manage to get to work, hang up my coat, sit down at my desk and then realize that once again I have dog drool on my pants, one son snotted my shoulder while the other left a beautiful toothpaste impression of his lips on my black shirt……oh, and I forgot to mention my unique hairdo held together by an unidentifiable sticky substance.  I am not sure how all that mess happens to gravitate to my outfit, it’s like magic every morning.  The whirlwind throws me into my car and off to daycare I go to drop off my youngest son. By now I am unknowingly (perhaps in denial at this point) a dirtbag.  A sweaty dirt bag at that from the ritualistic morning wrestling match between me and my 22 month old.  I win when I successfully get him into the car and buckled into his car seat.