Tuesday, September 30, 2008
But, we are going to Cali. Chad just dropped this little bomb on me last night. I say it like it's a bad thing...it's not...I'm just not used to this kind of spontanaity. Those of you who know me at all know how I feel about flying (I loathe it), and how I feel about leaving the kiddies for extended lengths of time. I need time (like weeks or months) to come to grips with these things and Chad has only given me twenty-four hours to do that. Not to mention that in those twenty-four hours I have to get four children packed as well as myself, clean the house and run to the grocery store.
Shootballs! I have a lot to get done. Don't worry, this is just the storm before the calm. I always have a little freakout and then I'm ususally okay.
(Deep, relaxed breathing).
Let me start over. Chad and I are taking a little vacay to SoCal. Today is the last day of the quarter and needless to say, things have been a little stressful, crazy, tiring...
So, last night, Chad handed me a little note; the front of which read "Bon Voyage". My first thought, "are you sending me off to the institution or something"?
Second thought, "wait, are you going somewhere...are you leaving me"?
In my defense, it was late.
He gently opened the card for me as I continued to stare, bewildered, into his eyes.
The note inside read "Congratulations: You won a vacation".
Okay, wait, I'm still confused...again it's late.
The note continued, "Thanks for being the support these last few weeks and for putting up with my especially surly (who uses that word anymore?) attitude. You are amazing (ahh, shucks). I know the end of the quarter pushes are harder on you than they are on me. You deserve a vacation! And I can't bear to leave you!! Love Chad."
At that point I had become really confused.
Now, looking back, I realize what could have been a really amazing, romantic moment...like something out of the movies...where I stand up sobbing and plant the biggest, wettest kiss on my man. But instead I looked up at him with that same bewildered and confused look on my face.
"You're coming with me to my meetings in San Diego", he finally explained, defeated and frustrated.
"Oh", was all I could mutter as the clouds started to part and things became clearer to me. A pretty lame reaction, I know, but that's the way my neurotic mind works.
Naturally I immediatly started freaking out; wondering who in their right mind had constented to take all four of my cute, yet exhausting children (thank you Sebring's, our good friends who may no longer be our friends after this is all over. We owe you guys BIG TIME). I began taking inventory on all of the things I had to do before we left: shopping, cleaning, packing.
Thankfully I was able to go right to bed and sleep during what would have been the pinnacle of my freakout. The ol' man planned that one well.
I woke up this morning still in mild freakout mode...but doing better...mostly just nervous to board a flying death trap (anyone got a couple of extra Valium laying around).
Obviously I haven't gotten any packing or cleaning done this morning as I've been sitting here at the computer instead. Crap, saying that just gave me a freak surge.
Okay, gotta go, but before I do, I wasn't kidding about the Valium. And, I gotta give props to my man for trying to do something totally romantic and memorable. You're totally the best. Sorry for screwing everything up. I'll try not to be so clueless next time, hint hint.
Farewell fellow bloggers. I look forward to returning soon; hopefully more tan and better rested.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
I am disappointed to report that there has been another incident involving the primary presidency.
Nothing as dramatic as the last episode...no angry leaders outside in the hall waiting to pounce, no substitution and/or addition of unsavory words to primary songs, but an incident nonetheless.
Allow me to recount.
I was on my way down the hall to the primary room to return some unneeded manuals. Upon entering said primary room I was struck by an uneasy feeling, call it...mother's intuition.
It was the end of church and I hadn't been informed of any misdeed, so I immediatly shrugged the feeling off. I was kindly greeted by my fellow sister and thanked for returning the extra manuals. A bit of small chat insued and just as I was about to bid farewell she stopped me.
"Um, hey, there was a little problem today in primary".
All I could think of to say was, "oh really", in my most surprised voice...curse you mother's intuition.
"Yeah, I already talked to Chad about it, but I just wanted you to be aware. Carter was a little disruptive today during singing time".
I didn't respond, but I was thinking "so...what's the big deal"?
"I told him he needed to be quiet, and then he told me he didn't like me".
"Okay wait, hold the freakin' phone". I didn't say that aloud, but rather screamed it in my head; all the while trying to restrain myself from tearing out the primary door and down the hall in search of the guilty fruit of my loins.
I gained my composure and ever so calmly replied "thank you for making me aware", though I really didn't mean it.
"I told Carter that he doesn't have to like me, but that he does have to be quiet", she added.
At that point I was speechless...for a couple of reasons. One, I was embarrassed that a child...my child...would have the tenacity to speak that way to an adult. And secondly, I was so livid that all I wanted to do was find my child and ask what the *#^% he was thinking speaking to an adult that way. And not just any adult, but a woman I visit teach... AND, not only am I her visiting teacher but she is also the counselor over the nursery...of which I am leader...you see where I'm going. This is not a person I can avoid. AWKWARD.
Now I realize that I may be overreacting. Keep in mind that it is fast Sunday, the blood sugar is low...waaaaay too low to be messin' with me...I'm a freakin' frazzled, starving lady. Nevertheless, I was not pleased to be told that my child was sassin' off to my "superior".
I finally snapped out of my muted stupor and mumbled a quick "thanks" and ran out the door.
On a side note...yesterday, out of the blue, I challenged myself to be more patient with the kiddies I have tendency to flip out on occasion...shocker...but I was reminded of this fact whilst barreling down the hallway, pushing fellow ward members out of my way as I searched for the guilty party.
Thankfully, Carter knew better than to put himself in the line of fire, and had made himself scarce, thus allowing me the time I needed to calm down and remember the challenge I made with myself a mere twenty-four hours prior.
I want you all to know that I made good on my promise. I didn't grab him by the shoulders and shake him violently; demanding to know where he gets off talking to his leaders that way, as I would have liked. As a matter of fact I didn't do anything at all...except for shoot him a look that conveyed pretty much everything I wanted to say and do to him. I think it worked.
When we got home from church he walked in the house and put himself in timeout.
There will be a discussion, perhaps a family home evening centered around this topic But for the time being I think I'll let Carter sweat it out a bit. I may possibly shoot him a follow-up look just to let him know who's boss and that this thing is not over... it's not over 'til the fat lady sings...and frankly, today, this fat lady is just to darn tired and hungry to do any singing.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Why not just change the playlist, you may be wondering.
Well, because I am OCD and in order to change the playlist, I must change the post to go along with it. So here it goes. Random thoughts, because I don't have anything better to say and seriously need to change my playlist.
Top Ten Words I Utterly Despise
1- Utter (not so much when used in reference to speaking, but when used to describe a cow's milk vessel, which consequently brings me to...)
2- Teets (pardon me whilst I dry heave)
3- Sack (I prefer the word "bag"...in every useage possible)
4- Panties (they are called undies, or underwear, or skivies, or drawers, but never, ever panties)
5- Discharge (need I say more...now I shall pardon you whilst you all dry heave)
6- Mucous (ugh)
7- Skid (I dunno, it's just an ugly word)
8- Void (another ugly word, like nails on a chalkboard)
9- Colon (mostly because of it's function, but also because it sounds a lot like Cullen, and my dear Edward should never be paired with such a word)
10- Chunks (I despise chunks in all forms. I do not like it in Peanut Butter, or soup, or...vomit. Sorry, if that just made you all blow "chunks")
runner ups: diarrhea, spew, fester, puss and/or pustule, bunion, Funion and onion (just kidding on the last two. Got a little carried away. I happen to enjoy FUN-ions, and onions...I don't however, enjoy bunions) and finally the word mom (but only when it comes in the form of a yell, whine or combination of both) I could go on...but I will spare your stomachs.
Okay, next item of business.
Top Ten Words I Absulotively (absolutely+positively) Love
1- Butter or Butta (I'll take it in any way, shape or form)
2- Freakin' (for when you want to spice up the vernacular)
3- Dip (Dual purpose word...both a noun and a verb...and consequently one of my favorite actions)
4- Refund (Need I say more?)
5- Cream or Creamy (the essential ingredient to all things decadent...as in ice cream, whipped cream, cream cheese etc., also my favorite consistency as in soup and peanut butter)
6- Sweet (another dual purpose word, an exclamation and an adjective. I particularly like this word when it precedes potatoe and I happen to be at Texas Roll House)
7- Edward (Need I say more?)
8- Massage (I feel relaxed just saying it)
9- Laugh (A funny word for a FUN-ny thing)
10- Shiz (just an all around great flavor word...like salt...everythings better with a little shiz)
honorable mentions: giggle, bubble, cuddle, marshmallow, masticate (cause it sounds naughty even though it's not), sassy, preposterous, ditty, booty, bootylicious, kiester and ba-donk-adonk. The list goes on but I'll leave it at that.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Chad: "We're supposed to be going out of town next week".
Me: "Well, we may heading down to St. George for grandmas funeral instead".
Avery: "Which gramma we talkin' about? The one with the servant?"
Ummm, yes Avery. That's exactly the grandma we're talking about. The one that lives in the castle on the hill; with two really ugly, really mean daughters and one beatiful, young step-daughter she treats like a slave.
Where the heck did that come from? Is that what Avery thinks my grandmother's South American roomate is...a servant?
I can just picture Avery the next time we are at grandmas house, "Hey slave, fetch me my Pet Shops and Barbies". Too many Disney movies, methinks.
Maybe I should sit her down and let her watch Glory, or Roots or Amistad...you know, a real life, down and dirty flick about bondage and servitude.
Watcha think about slavery now, sista?
Okay, I shouldn't joke. Many people lost their lives over the issue of slavery. Apparently they don't teach early American history in kindi-garten, but perhaps they should start, what with all the glamorization of slavery and servitude promoted in todays cartoons (yes Disney, I am speaking to you).
Our children need to know that it is not okay to order anyone around; whether it be an old, grouchy, English clock; an amorous, French candlebra; or a younger, more beautiful step-sister.
I guess I know what our topic will be tonight for family home evening; seeing as how Avery already treats yours truly like her own personal servant. But can you blame her?
Shame on you, Disney, shame on you and your little crab too.
I just attended an amazing enrichment night. The topic was "Safety from the Storm"...how to protect ourselves and our families from the adversary. I document for selfish reasons. I wanted to put everything I remember down "in stone" so that I could refer to it. But, I am happy to share it with you, because the information shared was invaluable. May I just say, that I am probably one of the most paranoid people and I was a little nervous about going, but I am so glad. I feel very EMPOWERED.
First, we had a police chief (in the business for thirty-six years, and a temple worker) speak to us on how we can protect oursevles physically. He said that bad things happen, generally, to people who do dumb things. Meaning, people who don't take the care to lock doors and windows at home, who provoke people on the freeway, who don't lock their car doors etc. are more likely to be the victim. So, rule number one, be smart. He also said to not be so trusting of people. I have to admit that this kind of bothered me a little, but I have to agree. Most offenders of the law look like any one else on the street and you have to be careful. One interesting thing he said is to be aware of the way we walk/present ourselves. By this he meant, walk with confidence, be aware of your surroundings, look people in the eye. People who look like they might put up a fight are less likely to become a victim. Insightful, I thought. He also gave his full approval of cell phones... even for children. Shocking. My little guy has been begging for one, and now I may have a justification for getting him one. He said to be careful of how we dress. Skin attracts sexual predators. Oh, he also said to be a good witness. Meaning, if we see something questionable happening take good notes. License plate numbers are key. If something doesn't sit well with us, if our guts are telling us something is not right, we should rely on that, too. It's okay to report things that may or may not be a big deal. Our phone call may be the missing link in catching someone they've been looking for. Oh, he also asked what we would be willing to lose our life over. Naturally, in a room full of women, the response was our children (or family). This is probably the only valid reason for fighting our offender. It is not worth it to fight for our car, our purse or whatever else. Just give it to them.
Always keep you car doors locked while driving. Keep your blinds closed at night so that we aren't giving some sicko a free show. Don't let your predator ever take you to a second location, EVER. Fight with all you have. It's worth it to get shot in a public place where help is readily available than to be carted off to some remote location where no one will hear or see you.
Oh, just like we tell our kiddies, do not approach the cars of strangers, EVER. Make sure our kids know this too. Teach our kids not to open the door for strangers, even if we are home. And, we shouldn't open the door to strangers either. That is our greatest barrier protecting us from the outside. If you leave your kids home alone, it's better that they make noise, so that it appears like people are there.
I know there was more, but I can't think of anything right now. Oh, one last thing, if your car breaks down and someone stops to help, do not get out with them. Keep you doors locked and stay inside. If they tell you they can't fix the problem without your help, stick a dollar bill out the window and tell them to call a tow truck for you. But, don't ever get out of the car. (Thank goodness for triple A and cell phones). One more last thing, be aware that after 11:00 pm, you are dealing with a different breed of people. He said that this is the time of day when the "nightcrawlers" emerge. People who have been drugging all night are just waking up, people who've been on porno websites are just venturing out etc. So, if you have to go out afterhours, please keep this in mind. Knowledge is power. Yeah baby!!!
Okay, the second speaker took a less intense approach. He is a seminary teacher and he spoke to us on how we can protect ourselves spiritually. It's actually very easy and there are four things we can do. These four steps come straight from the first presidency.
One: Family Prayer. Preferably both morning and night. A good approach is to pick a time both morning and night and designate that as family prayer time. He shared a story of how when he was a teenager he would race home to make it by ten for prayer. And the rule was that the last person in the house kneeling would say the prayer. So, if he had a date in the car and she slowly sauntered in, she'd usually end up giving the prayer. He said that eventually his dates and friends picked up on this and that it would become a mad dash to the house.
Two: Family Home Evening. We hear it a lot, I know, but it must be important. We need to be having family home evening. He shared a really good idea about dedicating our homes. He encouraged everyone to do this, and explained how he took the scripture, I forget the exact reference, but I'll do some research, that talks about building a house of prayer, a house of fasting etc. He took each of these qualities and made a FHE out of it in preparation for their home dedication. After he finished with them, they held a family fast and everyone went to the store and picked our their most favorite food item. After the fast and dedication were over they had a huge feast. Fun. He added that this has become a family favorite and tradition every time they move.
Three: Scripture/Doctrine study. He said that every family should be reading the Book of Mormon together. And, when you finish reading it, start all over again. He and his family have read it seven times. It's okay to read other scripture, but do it in conjunction with the Book of Mormon. He reminded us of how Joseph Smith said it is the "most perfect book". For those of us with young kids who probably don't understand we should still read directly from the scriptures. Just try to explain as you go along. I forget what prophet it was, but he said that there is no question/problem; financial, social, emotional, vocational etc, that cannot be answered or resolved in the scriptures. Hmmmmm. The speaker also mentioned that if we are reading our scriptures we will notice a difference in our patience with our kids and families, we will notice our kids becoming more receptive and obedient to us, more peace overall. I need that!
Four: Wholesome family activites. I guess it's up to our discretion to decide what these are. One thought he did share is for the father's to give our childen blessings. Make it a tradtion every school year. Neil A. Maxwell said that a father's blessing is one of the few blessings, aside from a patriarchal blessing, that can be recorded and referred to. He strongly encouraged everyone in the room to get a father's blessing and to use it as a reference. I would imagine that anything that builds family unity would fall under this category, like family vacations and outings etc.
Anyway there it is, "Cliff's notes" version. Probably not as entertaining as the real deal, but...
Friday, September 12, 2008
I just arrived home from an exhausting morning of unnecessary shopping and needed a little sumthin sumthin to relax my aching tootsies. So, I decided to put the ol' feet up and "veg" on the couch for a moment whilst engaging in some online window shopping.
Being the ever involved mother that I am, I gave Beckham a cookie and set him in front of the T.V., or what I endearingly call the "learning box", to watch some Little Einsteins...cause I want him to grow up to be a genius.
Anywho, in all my intense online purusing my little man got up without my knowing and disappeared. Like any reasonable parent, I finished what I was doing, and then proceeded to search for the little darling.
I couldn't hear him downstairs but decided to look anyway...I am a very thorough parent...but he wasn't anywheres to be found.
Next, I proceeded to check the doors, all of which were securely shut.
At this point I'm feeling a little panicky, but nothing worthy of hyperventilation. So, I decided to go upstairs, since it was the only place left to look.
I checked the bathroom, Beckham's bedroom, my bedroom, my closet...pretty much everywhere and still no Beckham.
Now, I know your probably asking yourself, what kind of angel baby would put their poor mother through something so worrisome, so I'll tell you.
On the way back down the stairs, I decided to check the crib, just on a whim...and would you believe what I saw...my darling angel baby, sleeping ever so soundly. The little guy had put himself down for a nap.
Immediately I felt a flood of satisfaction and pride wash over my whole person. I mean, only really capable parents have babies that put themselves to bed, right.
It appears that these Little Einsteins sessions are already starting to pay off.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
For the last two years a major topic of conversation in our household has been whether to move or not to move. Unfortunately, Chad and I were both cut from the same indecisive mold when it comes to decision making; which is why we are still having the same discussion twenty-four months later and which is why I have called upon you for help.
We have been in our current home for five years. It was the perfect little, emphasis on the little, home for us then. But, times have changed. Things are becoming sigificantly cramped shall we say. Not an environment fitting for a self-proclaimed neat freak and clutter phobe. Our humble (2400 sqare feet) abode, I fear, is no longer able to accomodate our family of six.
And to complicate matters more, there has been talk of possibly adding one more to the mix, thus making the grand tally a nice round seven. This really freaks me out. I seriously can't imagine where I would stick one more person. We could convert the master closet into a "bedroom". But that would just be plain old "dub-ya tee" now wouldn't it?
The other, more practical, arrangement would be to stick Beckham with Carter, thus making the nursery available for occupancy. While this seems logical enough, it makes me a little nervous because Carter is in the basement and Beckham is just a baby and I...uh hum, I mean he, needs me to be close.
While the space issue is enough reason to move in my opinion, I feel it necessary to share the reasons why we shouldn't move just to be fair.
The first and most important reason being money. Naturally, we will be taking on more financially to upgrade. The question is whether or not the trade off is worth it.
Secondly, we are ridiculously close to every modern convenience: grocery stores, restaurants (Texas Roll House specifically), I-15, shopping i.e. Target and Wally's.
Thirdly, we will be leaving behind the best neighbors, neighborhood, ward etc. and I'm nervous that we won't be so lucky a second time.
In all honesty, I think this freaks me out more than the money. I hate to move to a nice, big, expensive home only to learn after the fact that we have Freaky Freakerson on one side Creepy Creeperson on the other. Likely not gonna happen, which I realize, but that's just how my mind works.
Now to you my trusted, fellow blogees, am I being impractical, worldly, selfish...?
Is wanting a bigger house really a bad thing? Part of me thinks yes; that I just be grateful to any home at all. But then, part of me also thinks no. There is nothing wrong with wanting something more...something better. It's good to be motivated; to have goals and aspriations, right?
You can see my dilemma. I am a perpetual fencesitter (as is Chad on this particular topic). So, please if you have any opinions, advice, or suggestions etc. please share. Don't worry, what you say will only affect the rest of my life...just kidding, but at the same time kinda not.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Getting older never really used to bother me, but this birthday was not one I was particularly looking forward to. I was, in fact, kinda dreading it.
I think my birthday phobia startly shortly after I turned thirty and officially had to bid farewell to my twenties. There's just something very...grown up about being thirty-something. And quite frankly, I don't want to be grown up. And as a side note, do any of you remember the T.V. series called Thirtysomething from the early nineties-ish? Well, I do. And you know what, it was a show about old people (at least that's what I thought back then). And ya wanna know something else? NOW I'M ONE OF THOSE OLD PEOPLE!!!
I know I should just relax and accept the fact that I am getting older, but it's difficult. Guess I'll just keep lathering my face in Retin-A and vitamin E oil and countless other sticky, stinky substances that might possibly preserve my youthful glow. Hopefully it won't all backfire on me.
Anyway, aside from the "little" preoccupation with getting older, my birthday was a great day.
Highlights included: a deliciously decadent sweet potatoe from Texas Roll House...my mouth is watering just thinking about all those perfectly toasted mini marshies, and all that melted cinnimon butter; my totally rad birthday presents...I know that probably sounds completely shallow, but they really are rad...pictures are below; and finally, all of the phone calls and visits from family and friends...you guys are da shizzle...I love you. You totally made a day I was dreading not so dreadful.
So, thank you...and long live Botox.
I wish for eternal youth and a lifetime supply of Retin-A.
Aren't these little guys sooo cute? They totally remind me of Nightmare Before Christmas.
And the whole village. The best part...they are made of cardboard and paper. So, I don't have to worry about the kids breaking them like everything else their busy little hands touch.
Ta-dum! The "pee-ehs duh re-zis-tahns" (spelled phonetically cause I don't know French). Chad bought me this beauty. I think it was his passive-agressive approach to kicking me out of the office. Apparently he's tired of me invading his space. Oh, well. Now I can blog from the comfort of the couch, bed or toilet. Just FYI, I don't plan on blogging from the pot, per se, but it's an option...ya know...should the need ever arise.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
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Wednesday, September 3, 2008
My sister and her family were heading south for the long weekend, so I figured I would tag along.
Now, having just taken a thirteen hour road trip not long ago, I was a little hesitant to attempt the journey alone, without any back-up...even though some was offered (Thanks Michele for offering up one of your precious own to accompany me, but I just didn't have the heart to make a poor innocent soul endure the four hour long car drive with my four wild monkeys).
To my surprise the trip down wasn't bad. Perhaps it was due to the fact that I brought my trusty, old I-POD along. I just cranked the sucker up to full blast and cruised...totally oblivious to the shenanigans going on behind me. Ahhh, ingorance really is bliss.
Saturday we spent the day at the lake; just like the good old days. It was tons of fun sitting on the beach, admiring all my cellulite, whilst eating nothing but crap. Oh, the irony.
I failed to participate in any extreme activity while there, unless eating counts. But some of the spry, young folk knee boarded and wake boarded. The little ones had a good time playing in the water and on the beautiful red sand beach (FYI, red sand may be fun to play in, but it is hecka hard to get out of clothes).
Boating has always been "our" family activity. Growing up, some of my fondest memories are of going to the lake and swimming and skiing and getting pulled on the tubes. It has been a while since the whole fam has partook, partaken...whatever, participated in this beloved activity from the past, but I certainly hope it isn't a while until we do it again.
Sunday, the entire family, went to Nikki's ward to listen to Austin speak. It's always a joy to listen to Austin. He talked about the last six months he spent in China studying. For those of you who don't know Austin, he's totally rad...and totally my nephew. He got home a year ago from a "mish" to Taiwan. After six months at college, Yale to be precise, he went to study abroad in China. This kid is totally the "shiz", I mean, he had President Hu (that's the chinese president) come visit him at his dorm room.
I could boast on and on, but I'll stop. And just FYI, my whole fam is the "shiz".
Oh, and church was great.
Later on in the day we dined on BBQ'd ribs, and chicken parts... all thanks to Nikki and Max (another "shiz-a-listic" nephew. He's bound to be the next Bobby Flay. Yum yum.)
The evening was topped off with a few other family favorites...The Dictionary Game, What If, and Would You Rather. Good times. Don't worry Al, you don't have cankles and Richard isn't really your dad. But it sure is fun to joke about it.
Thanks to Nikki and Matt for the usage of their boat and thanks to Courtney and Mandy for the usage of theirs. And thanks to everyone: Clare, Alicia, Alex, Taylor, Lindsay, Mason, Nikki, Matt, Austin, Max, Tayana, Kendyl, Cam, Gary and Michele, Court and Mandy, Kelly and Andrea for making this past weekend hecka fun. I laughed my big (from all the crap snacking) @$* off.
See ya all at Christmas?
Ken and Cam. What a couple'a hotties.
Taylor and Alex. More, fresh-faced, young hotties.
The Miller Clan: Nikki, Austin, Zak, Matt and Max.
Ummm...some Cuban refugees? Nah, just my family.
Ashlyn, the mermaid...NOW SING.
Fun in the sun..and sand.
Rachel the mermaid.
Hey look kids...Molly's nipple (No, I am not being crass...geographically correct).
Ainsley and Ivy...what a couple'a cuties.
See what gluttony can do (Notice the smaller fish sticking out of the bigger fish's mouth. It was quite the attraction).
Beckham...my only child not terrified of water.
Little Ali...sooo cute. I may have to have another baby just to borrow her darling swimsuit.
Finally, once they were asleep they all proceeded to play musical bed spots. The girls have this thing about sleeping by me. Either they have some major separation issues, or they really, really love me. Anyway, everywhere I went...there they were. There was also the little game of "blanket tug-o-war" and "who can cole cock mama in the face". The combination of all these things does not make for a very sound slumber. Frankly, I am shocked we made it to St. George alive. Driving makes me sleepy on a good day, let alone a day following the worst night's sleep imaginable.
Thankfully, the kids don't read my blog, so they will never know my true feelings regarding our little "slumber" party. They may, however, begin to wonder when they ask to have another one and I fall to the floor and curl up in the fetal position. But, we'll just deal with that when the time comes.
Sorry the pictures are a little blurry.
Before. See the nice, long space there on the left side of the bed. That was to be my spot.
After. Notice how the sleeping arrangments have changed. Also notice how MY SPACE somehow shrunk to a quarter of the size.