You may not want to read this post because I’m about to get a little bragadocious.
I woke up, for the 2nd or 3rd time at 7:56. By 8:26, all four of us (the three chickadees and me) were out of their pajamas, with clean faces and combed hair and we were on our way to MOPS.
We all went to the grocery store, getting everything on the list and forgetting nothing, and although I did start to sweat a little when Cadrian was dangling precariously between the edge of the the window of the truck cart and the check out lane beside us, and Brielle decided to whine the ENTIRE time we were in the check out, we all made it home in one piece.
And then, my coup de force, after dragging in all the groceries and making lunch in the speed of light, I… (are you ready?)
( you might want to sit down for this)
I hung up the hose.
Yes. You read correctly. All by myself.
Yes, I’m still panting a little, and my arms are sore, but I hung up our gigantic, extra long length, super farm duty, enormously heavy, so-big even my brawny husband said he wouldn’t have done it, hose on a hook that was over my head all. by. myself.
I’m going to go bask in my glory for a bit. Feel free to bring me lemonade or random tokens of your admiration.