Saturday was the most fantastic day of the week when I was a kid. Two days seemed like an eternity to do whatever I pleased. Saturday mornings had the promise of cartoons and big breakfast and pajamas.
Saturdays when you are moving in six weeks are not so lazy, they more closely resemble a meeting of war officials. You round up the troops, you assess your abilities and you develop your plan of attack.
We didn’t quite tear the roof off last night. But we did stay up past one in the morning. This is not a small piece of news in our household these days. So, at least two-thirds of the troops were struggling this morning as we were developing the day’s agenda. Unfortunately the remaining third is not quite as gung-ho about a trip to Bed Bath & Beyond to measure some blinds or scouring the thrift stores for a dresser for the baby.
This pregnant lady might have only had four hours of sleep. But she is ready to kick some “We are moving in October” ass this morning. After a Saturday morning that was more like Saturday circa 1982 than I had anticipated I am ready to take on the world.
Thanks, MQD and Em. Flowers + Pancakes + Sausage = Happy Mom