I think I jinx myself when I say I'm going to post over the weekend. Annie ended up getting a fever which killed some Friday night plans for dinner with DD and Beau. Saturday, I took the girls to ballet, but didn't want to push it. So we just hung around here and relaxed for the rest of the weekend. And by "relaxed", I mean, I begged and guilted Jason into helping me re-paint Chance's room. It would have been no big deal, had it not been for that god-awful wallpaper border we had to remove. First of all, whoever invented that pointless solution that "dissolves" it, was on crack. My fingertips are still raw. Not to mention the sticky MESS that covered everything. At one point, I contemplated burning the house down. Because I think building it from the ground up would have been easier. And even though now I hate wallpaper (deeply), I have to admit that the pain of it is slightly like child birth. Because every time I look into the new Shiny Green Big Boy Room, I have to repress the desire to canon-ball onto his bed. So that's success, right? Now I just have to shoot and hang up a few really huge black and white prints of him, to top it all off.

And speaking of needing to shoot photos of my own kids. I dropped Emily off for her first day of pre-school on Tuesday, and didn't even bring my camera. Not even the phone. Luckily my friend Tara was there to say, "WTF Maile, here's mine. Take some shots and I'll email them to you." Oh, and as if that's not bad enough, listen to this! On my way out of class, an old man who was standing at the door says to me, "Don't worry sweetie, she'll be fine." I didn't know what he meant, and just as I was about to say, "Oh no, she's been her for two years, she's crazy about pre-school!"...I realized this man had thought that I'd been crying. Yep. 1 week of getting up at the crack + 0 mascara = looking SO BAD that you might as well be bawling your eyes out. So I just said, "Oh, thanks." and smiled. And then ran to the car to look at my sleep deprived eyes in the rear view mirror.   

And that's how the rest of the week has been: a sequence of one frustrating, or worrysome thing after another. And tomorrow's my birthday (insert photo of Debbie Downer here). Want to know how I'm not going to be celebrating? Well, I'm not going to be getting on a plane to Vegas. Nor will I be sleeping in, or drinking myself silly  with my friends, while enjoying the first vacation with my husband since our son was born 8 years ago. We planned it months ago, scheduled Grammy to fly in. Then Jason's job turned him into an indentured slave. Turns out a project he's working on is more important than my spa date. So I spent Monday pouting. Tuesday, I moved on to "oh well". And I'm working on getting to "look on the bright side".

Because there are lots of bright sides. For instance, tonight is girl's night out.. My Mystic Tan is a streaking, but I'm excited. AND, Grammy's still coming for the weekend! That could mean Seaworld, or a pedicure, or a date night. Or maybe even another wallpaper-free home project. I'm feeling very nest-y these days (no I'm not pregnant). I think it's knowing the holidays are right around the corner. Feels like transition.