Compelled

I feel compelled to write something, anything, but I feel that I have very little to say.

This week was a good one. I didn't get enough sleep, but I made some lacing cards for Guy and transcribed more of my maternal grandmother's journal. I got spit up on way too many times, did lots of laundry, and changed an inconceivable number of stinky diapers. Seven today alone. I also re-read my favorite novel, The Ladies of Missalonghi by Colleen McCullough.

This week I'll be doing a freezer meals activity, watching Babette's Feast, making a trip to WalMart and TJ Maxx in search of diapers and a sun hat, respectively, and should have several exciting packages coming in the mail ( a couple books for me, some clothes, and Josh's birthday present).

I suppose one thing of genuine interest is I've made the jump and organized a Preschool-with-Mom for Guy. Friday we made signs with words and pictures in the order of activities, and made pancakes together. Tomorrow we're going to talk about names and ages, and "trace" (translation: scribble over) the letters in Guy's name, sing the Happy Birthday song, read about Lyle Crocodile's birthday, and make pretzels in the shape of the letters G-U-Y. This is all under the assumption that Leo will take a morning nap, although I am fairly certain he will do so.

Looking back over this post, it amazes me that I feel my life yields so little to say when I do rather a lot of interesting things with my time.