With all my heart.

I wish you and yours a beautiful Valentine's Day.

You know what I've been doing this morning?

Yeah - well - let me tell you.

My daughter crawled into bed with us at I don't know what hour.

While she was in the bathroom my husband suddenly realized that she doesn't have school tomorrow, NOT Monday as we had been discussing.

Oops.

Someone's homework needs to be put into her binder.

*made mental note*

Got her to focus on getting dressed.

Came downstairs with the dogs and the cats. Focused on feeding the dogs.

Grabbed child's knapsack.

Do you call it a bookbag? A knapsack? A backpack? We use backpack. So why I just referred to it as a knapsack I have NO clue.

Anyway, the bag. Remember the bag? No. You couldn't. I haven't posted much this week.

On Monday we came downstairs to find that Harley (veteran cat in the household) had taken the liberties to pee on the part of the couch the bag was hanging out on and ON THE FREAKING BAG!!

Fantastic.

Well, today I went back to that area of the couch. It's been removed from the full couch because the husband has to do some work on it *cough cough* yep. And he peed over there again. Fecker.

Fortunately the only things that were there were oh, her hat and gloves.

Double fecker.

So then we discuss breakfast and lunch. I had it in my mind to make her some cute heart-shaped cutouts for her lunch bag and thought it would be a cute ... "Can I have lunch at school today?"

At school?

"Yes. At school."

Uhm. Okay.

"Because you didn't make it yet?"

"Right. Sure. Okay. Lunch at school. Do you want breakfast at home?"

Breakfast varies. We used to be on an eat at school kick which made our lives somewhat easier. Lately she's been eating at home, which I'm cool with because every now and then she comes home and says she ate a donut for breakfast. Say wha?

Now, where was I?

Right. Breakfast. At home.

I'm the kind of parent that gives choices. I know. Maybe I do too many. But they have so little control over so much - breakfast can be a choice. Lunch is usually my pick, but sometimes she helps so she has a say. But dinner is all me. If we go out we decide as a family. Don't judge, m'kay?

Anyway - waffles? French toast sticks? Cereal? Egg/Sausage/Cheese sandwich? No. No. No.

Fabulous.

We ended up with French toast sticks - my call. And I gave her some yogurt to get her started. If she doesn't make the call I do. We're good.

Somehow I notice that something smells. It's not the cat pee. It's not the house. Or the child.

It's me.

I stink.

How'd that happen? Maybe the cleaning up of the cat pee? Whatever it is.

Do you ever do that? Notice you stink? It's a fun realization.

So I've moved dishes around. Stared at the clutter on my counters and sink and more. Made myself some tea. Watched a little Ellen. And started to write.

Like this. Like now.

Happy Valentine's Day, friends. May you and your day and your family and everyone around you smell like roses. Me? I'm going to go take a shower.

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