Pathetic.

I know, it's been a few days! But in my defense, they have been crazy... Mostly because this little guy really wants to turn 2 a few days early. Oh Lucas, you are one creative soul......
The week started here - at the school garden. It had badly overgrown and needed some TLC.

My parents, being the wonderfully selfless people that they are, offered to help. Not that there wasn't any griping, but that was mostly on my part. And my mom did enjoy throwing the shovelfuls of dirt at me so I could shake them off. I've never been so dirty.
Miracles they did work. After 3 1/2 short (long) hours of constant work, it was cleared!

It was hard, painful, boring, torturous work, but well worth it. It lifted the spirits of many people at school, getting them inspired for the school year ahead. I was no worse for the wear, well, except I was filthy. Even though I was wearing boots and long pants, I was filthy.

And I threw my back out trying to keep up with my youngster parents. They are workhorses.

The week was devoted to getting everything ready at school and the boys adjusted to daycare. Lucas is doing much better, though he got back at me for leaving him there.

Tuesday night. We were all exhausted, still from the weekend, and from working in our rooms. My parents went out to dinner and the boys and I were coloring/relaxing downstairs. Lucas toddled off toward the bathroom and there were a few minutes of silence. I go in and he starts giggling maniacally (is that a word?) as he smears my heavy duty conditioner all over his body and looks as he had squirted the rest of the bottle into a drawer containing my hair dryer, curling iron, stuff like that. I ream him, clean him up and go to check on Ethan. We color for a minute and I hear more of the giggling. I go back to the bathroom and Lucas is smearing my face lotion all over the toilet seat. He thinks he is so funny. I do not. And I tell him so. Loudly. I'm cleaning it up, checking on Ethan, trying to get some sense of order back when I hear footsteps upstairs. I go up to find Lucas, giggling again, standing over a dozen eggs, cracked open onto the floor. It is all over the fridge, the floor, the boy. Bath. Bed. At 6. I'd had it. And cleaning up those eggs? Grossest thing ever.

That boy gives me gray hairs! And he doesn't turn two until Sunday!

So to say the least, it's been a week.

Oh, and I got a cold/allergies and lost my voice yesterday. I think it's back, but one never knows.

An adventure, this life of mine is!