MoMar and DooDad are coming in 3 short days, and I have been trying to get myself and my house organized before they arrive. I am doing this in the hope that when they step off of the plane, we will have nothing but time to spend together- talking and watching Ezra do silly things and eating yummy food together. I am also doing this in the hope that time will hurry up and HURRY already so that my parents will be here already and cant it just HURRY up and hurry already?!
I've even gone so far as to make a list of things I want to do before Friday. A LIST! I am not a list person, although I really should be one because it is the only way I have found for me to stay organized and on target when faced with any sort of time line. Today I had planned to do some cleaning and errands and scrubbing of toilets, but instead? Would you like to know what I'm doing instead? I'm sitting on the floor, directly in front of the TV which is playing "You've Got Mail" for the third time in the last 5 days, munching on Archer Farm's brand of Sweet & Spicy snack mix. The laundry is piled (unfolded) on the chair behind me, and I've spent much of the morning looking for cool ankle booties on eBay...
...like this pair, which happen to be for sale right now and they are even my SIZE, but I just know that by the end of the auction they will be selling for the price of roughly 4 small countries and I will be left, once again, emotionally crushed and ankle boot-less...awash in the world of footwear; wandering aimlessly with nothing on my feet but the ragged flip flops I bought from Payless 4 years ago for $4.99.
Ezra has been very whiiiiiinnnnyyyyyy the last couple of days, and I'm beginning to sense that his frustration is largely fueled by his not being able to communicate with me as well as he'd like. I'm hoping that this frustration will push him more towards verbalization and less towards throwing his limp body on the floor and writhing every 3 minutes or so- screaming and *gufaw*ing all Ace Ventura-like. Every time he does this thrashing on the floor dance, I can't help but think of Jim Carrey in that scene where he is being 'birthed' out of the robotic rhino- twisting and contorting and ultimately freaking the bejeebuz out of everyone present. (And I'm the lady holding the binoculars.)
Thankfully, all of this extra whining has been counteracted with an even larger measure of sweet cuteness and lovey-doveyness. He is snuggly and silly and hilarious when he is not horizontal on the kitchen tile, and I thank God for that. God seems to know that I need a little comic relief every now and then in this life (since He made me and all), and Ezra seems to have it coming out of his ears these days.
Also, can you guys believe that it is JUNE already?! I swear, just yesterday it was Christmas... I mean, I'm still accidentally writing 2006 on checks and forms for gosh's sake, and you're telling me its JUNE?
Dirty liars. It's a conspiracy, I just know it.