Just another manic weekend. We went to a friend's house for a brunch on Saturday and had a wonderful time pestering the couple's poor little pug pooch and playing hide-and-seek in their closets.
Yeah ... we really watch our kids when we're toasting good times.
But hey, It's all good ... nothing got broken and the kids ate their weight and fruit and fake sausage.
Sunday we had our usual yoga class, which I know Annabel is SICK of attending. She's happy to see her friend Maya, but only because Maya brings eye shadow and lip gloss, and they get busy getting all gussied up. She has no interest in actually doing much yoga, except for the OMs at the end.
Then I had to go to a year-end dinner for board members at Annabel's preschool, a place I like to refer to as Marilla Cuthbert's Academy for Unspeakably Charming Children, which I'll admit was fun, if only because it's still so hilarious for me to listen to the preschool teachers try and break out of their early-childhood-educator voices as they're downing daiquiris. In case you are wondering, they just can't do it. ... all roads lead to using your "listening ears," or your "walking feet." Furthermore, it is now my unscientific conclusion that preschool teachers are the most UNCORRUPTABLE humans on the planet. Each one -- including the teacher who was retiring -- called it quits at ONE daiquiri. They have their standards.
I, of course, was drinking seltzers and lime and eating WAY too much tenderloin and salad (all of which came back up when I tried to go to sleep four hours later). So it turns out I'm experiencing a late pregnancy evening sickness, which I think has to be related to the "out of control" heartburn I've been experiencing on and off since month FIVE. (Aren't you glad I'm sharing?)
The best part has to be this morning, however, when Annabel brought her bright little self into Lori's house and told her in her tiny voice and without fanfare: "Mommy has terrible heartburn EVERY DAY."