Please bear with me as I recap:
We had FABULOUS weather. Fabulous! Which of course means Annabel was severely constipated and didn't want to do anything but sit around and warn us "I'm pooping."
As one might surmise, her warnings of impending poop didn't materialize into anything substantial until after 4 p.m. on Saturday.
Although we tried to take her mind off her tummy troubles, it didn't work. We attempted a walk to the park, but as soon as we got there she wanted to go home. She was "pooping." So instead of playing on the slide, or taking a hike as I had planned, we wasted the bulk of the day sleeping. I can't believe I'm complaining about GETTING SLEEP, but it really was too nice of a day to fritter away in bed.
Sunday, I told myself -- just a mere seven full diapers away -- would be a better day. Afterall, we have our weekly yoga class. Of course, I was wrong.
Turns out my yoga studio is getting evicted. How's that for bad juju?
Since Annabel was three months old, we've been traveling to Great Barrington to run a FREE yoga class for moms and babies, thanks to the generosity of Berkshire Mountain Yoga for the lend of its beautiful studio. Over the past two years, it's turned into a class for moms and … well … anyone who wants to show up, regardless of whether they calculate their ages in weeks or decades.
This week, however, when I unlocked the door there was a note waiting for me that explained the director hadn't been able to contact the landlord for six months, and that the lease was up at the end of May. So as of May 28, Berkshire Mountain Yoga will be homeless.
So, happy birthday to me: No more yoga, mom.
On a positive note, however, one of my favorite bloggers Mom-101 has nominated one of my posts as "A Perfect Post" for the month of April.
It's quite an honor for me, especially coming from such a skilled writer as she. Thank you Liz. I guess I don't have to mention it was a nice bit of sunshine in an otherwise bleak but sun-shiney, poopless, non-relaxing weekend.
THE YAYA REPORT
What's happening at the other mom's house ....
A seething mass of putrid
That would be the diaper bag. Turns out the smell of used diaper that wafted in my car all weekend was, in fact, coming from the diaper bag. Lori detected it this morning as she sat at her computer checking her e-mail while Annabel napped. Her nose pointed her in the direction of DOWN. (The location of where I drop the bag of useless crap I tote around but never {apparently} check).
Now mind you, I noticed the smell but had decided it was A.) The remnants of my olifactory sensations after the SEVENTH smelly diaper I changed or B.) the garbage bag I had thrown a banana piece into Friday morning.
She couldn't believe I had ACTUALLY left a dirty diaper in there for her to find with her keen sense of smell. She was right. I hadn't. I had, however, left a little bag of leftover dinner from two weeks ago, a care package from my mom and dad who had been watching the kidlet. My mom had been careful to remind me to put the remants of a dinner I hadn't gotten a chance to eat in the refrigerator. But having NOT found the bits in a cursory search, I assumed she had forgotten to include it in the bag and forgot all about it.
Not too bright, am I?
The YAYA REPORT today is brought to you by FREEBREEZE. It doesn't work to kill smells, it just masks them in a more putrid way.
1 comment:
Just read your perfect post award...
I loved it because it is such a hard thing to find that perfect someone for that babe in your life. You are very lucky that you three somehow found each other. I love things work out in mysterious ways.
I work too and I have this weird feeling sometimes if I am not sure my little chicks are where they are supposed to be. It's a stabbing sensation - followed by relief when I know they are all accounted for.
It's good to go to work knowing that Annabel is in the hands of a pro.
Congrats on the perfect post.
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