Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Y2 Day 111: My Own Li'l Davy Jones
I loved it.
Martini desperately needs a haircut — it's on our to-do list for vacation week, along with flu shots and cleaning out our closets — so I tried to affix his wayward locks with hairspray, but he still looked like Maynard G. Beatnik. But in his crisp white shirt and black slacks he stood tall and handsome, and we near died of pride.
And afterward we went for ice cream with my buddy Superdad and his family; we've all been friends since Li'l Martini and Superdad's youngest were babies, and it's always so fun to hang with them. It's an easy comfy friendship, and they feel like cousins at this point.
Interestingly, this is one of the few friendships where I'm closer to the male half of the couple (though I love the wife, too; I just don't see her as much).
And the Christmas miracle of my weight staying down continues miraculous! The Italian Spitfire actually called and e-mailed me today to see where the heck I've been — which is funny, right? The class is probably a lot quieter (and more reverent) when I'm not there. I promised I'd see her tomorrow night (I have to exercise, miracle or no miracle; I can feel myself turning into butter) and suggested that she have the class do extra squats in my honor, ha! ha! ha!
(Hate squats. Almost as bad as ab work. Ow ow ow. I would rather lift a hundred weights.)
Tonight after the kids go to bed, Husband and I are wrapping our baby's birthday presents. His natal day isn't till Friday, but I did the math and realized that this was our only chance. I got not one, not two, but three editing jobs for this week, busy busy!, and I really need the dough. So — we wrap. All good.
And now I shall have at it!
—Lady C, not Supermom but giving it her very best anyway