• Stretch

• Grow an extra arm

• Figure out what my child eats that wreaks so profusely when coming out the other end

• Burn V-day CD

This morning got off to a decent start. I decided to go back to old habits and start walking 10,000 steps a day: I even had a trusty new pedometer to break out (since the last three have bit the dust, or rather, the toilet: they tend to fall into the bowl when I’m pulling my pants back up). Why 10,000 steps? Because Oprah and McDonalds say it’s good for you, and they are the experts when it comes to health, yes?

I was so nervous about getting up to walk that I couldn’t sleep: I kept tossing and turning, wondering if I needed to get up and throw on my shoes, so that when it was time, I preferred to fall asleep for the first time all night. Winter has been long and gray in these parts, so I’m hoping a combination of walking, vitamins, and watching Arrested Development Season 1 will keep the counseling appointments away (my version of therapy’s much cheaper, especially when vitamins are on sale and the dvds are borrowed from my bubba).

I now need Go Go Gadget arms. Going to the mom’s group this morning I had to balance my bag, the giant non-feminine looking diaper bag (picked out by my husband – big enough to carry diapers or hacksaws in), my ginormous coffee cup (the only size they come in in the Northwest), and The Scones. I could balance carrying everything; I could not, however, open doors or walk upstairs very gracefully to get into the building to go to my moms’ group, which is kinda the reason I was carrying everything in the first place.

After the group meeting in which we talked about sex (shhh), I went to pick up JJ from the nursery. He stunk. To high heaven. Literally: angels were wafting their wings as fast as they can to redirect the scent to. . . well, you know where. I feed my child healthy food: cottage cheese, oatmeal, raisins, whole wheat bread. What is in those ingredients that can turn his diapers into weapons of mass destruction? And how could the nursery workers NOT notice that his bum was wafting green fumes?

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, a day that in my family is mostly known as “Nana and Mama’s Birthdays.” Since Nana has passed, Mom has to represent all by her lonesome.
My hubby doesn’t much like the pressure of having to shop. And having been one of those girls who claimed “Valentine’s Day is STUPID. Why would I want someone to *have* to buy me a gift?”, I now reap the benefits of my declarations (aka not a lot). Actually, my hubby and I burn each other cds: that’s how we kinda started dating – the mix tape exchange (it was all very precious). So now I need to whip out my I-tunes and figure out what songs will completely encapsulate and encompass the deep, meaningful relationship we have . . . or maybe I can find fifteen different versions of “Gettin’ Jiggy Wid It”, cause nothing says “I love you” like a little Fresh Prince.

Daily Drivel