We spent all day doing laundry and cleaning house. We head out, again, on Friday. This time to New York. Next week gets busy and then we have Ellie’s birthday. We do not bother vacuuming because the dogs will leave enough tumbleweed hair collections around the house that by tomorrow you will never believe that today we cleaned. Instead, we concentrate on picking up, wiping down bathrooms, kitchen floor and walls. Oh yeah, when I say we, I mean me. Ellie is the negative of help. Daddy chases her around the house (not in a game, fun way… but an ACK! Don’t touch that… Mommy, she is in the dogs' water bowl… Yikes! Mommy, she is in the rubber-tree dirt!... Help! MOMMY!!!...) So I fold a shirt, grab an Ellie, fold a pair of pants, rescue a Daddy, and so on… Why I am not back to the size and shape I was at 18… I don’t know!
Ellie’s night schedule is ALL MESSED UP! Last week, she was sleeping through the night, today, she is waking every hour to two hours. She is even waking Daddy!
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