On month four now of thrice-weekly visits to the chiropractor. Little time for anything else...well, other than cooking, potty-training, and washing dishes. We are plugging away at our schoolwork; dissected owl pellets on the dining table last night with the older three after Sean went to bed. Switched math curriculum (from Horizon to Singapore) and Cole is saying (so far) that he likes it much better. Having fun learning Latin verbs, and making up our own (English) madlibs in our spare time to cement the ideas of nouns and verbs. Taking walks to clear Mama's head. Washing machine has been broken for two weeks now, I've spent nearly $100 at the laundromat and there is dirty laundry EVERYWHERE. Packed 5 boys and as much dirty laundry as I could fit around them into the Volvo this morning, drove the minute and a half to the laundromat and discovered that they are closed on Thursdays. Which wouldn't be quite so sad of a story if I hadn't done the EXACT SAME THING LAST WEEK. It's possible that there is a neural connection missing in my head. Hmm. Not willing to switch laundromats because mine uses cards, I've already started one and I don't need more than one laundry card floating around my kitchen. We made an outing out of it anyway and spent a bunch of time wandering around the grocery store; picked up a few things for dinner but forgot the salad dressing. Have just enough balsamic vinegar in the bottle to mix some up.
Weather is nicer and boys are dying to be outside. The only complication is that outside = dirty clothes and I'm not sure there are any clean ones left. Appliance repairman just called and said my machine is completely shot...apparently a nail pierced a hole in the washtub...is that any surprise?
My favorite romantical quote from my spouse this week:
"Baby, one day this merry-go-round will stop. We'll puke, and then we'll get back to our lives."
While packing @! loads of dirty laundry back into the kitchen this morning, along with three bags of groceries:
Mama: "Boys, this is the loading zone. Please, unless you are helping unload, please move out of the way so the rest of us can get through. REUBEN. Scootch out of the way PLEASE."
Reuben: "BUT I WANNA GET LOADED!"