I’m pretending he’s sleeping while I sit and eat the frosting off of a cake that’s too old to eat. The frosting is still good, but the cake tastes…off.
Which is slightly concerning because I’m pretty sure my husband had a piece for breakfast…I notice when we’re down a piece of cake. I notice things like that. Nutrition intuition I like to call it.
I do now at least.
So I’m eating the homemade chocolate frosting. And he’s chattering and throwing around books and jumping on his bed. Tonight will be an early bedtime.
That was a typing break so that I could eat some more frosting. It’s got red and pink sprinkles on top; not the chunky chalky ones, but the perfectly delicate sugar sprinkles. I made the cake last week and sprinkled it festively for Valentine’s Day.
More frosting…this will probably make me sick. Give me a terrible headache at least. I’ll have to do a few hundred squats to burn it off, but the only folks who don’t think it’s worth it are the ones who don’t deserve my cake. Definitively. Definitely. Definitely definitive. No cake for you.
He’s quiet now…I think he may have fallen asleep. I’ll go check on him and make sure he’s got a blanket over his bare toes – he always pulls his socks off, the little stinker. Sweet little stinker. I’ll be right back.
He’s still awake. An early bedtime tonight for sure – we missed the napping window. I’m gonna let him play in there for a while though. I tell myself it’s good down time for him on the days he doesn’t nap (which are few and far between (thankfully)), but I think it’s more for me.
But if momma’s mentally stable, everybody’s happy, right?
So I will eat my frosting, cringe when I hear the sounds of a mess being made, and be thankful.
And then I’ll do some squats. I saw a clip on Facebook yesterday where a mom was doing a workout using the edge of a bathtub while her little one was taking a bath. Brilliant use of time. My issue is that I sweat when I workout and it takes negative exertion for me to break a sweat.
That is not an exaggeration. Truly. “She conquers the world with her sweat towel in tow,” they say of me.
Something like that, at least.
So I’m choosy about when I’m going to cross that threshold. Sweat = shower = HUGE time-sucker. I need to plan accordingly.
Do you know what else is time-consuming? Wedging a wriggly toddler-baby into snow clothes. Half of the time he becomes so noodle-like that it’s impossible to coax his limbs into the proper channels and the other half he’s angry because his noodle-limbs have been lost in the abyss of fabric.
And the thumbs…trying to get his thumbs to go separate from his fingers in a mitten is laughable. We almost get it and he makes a fist, forfeiting all progress.
But that’s what we’ll tackle next, him and I. I needed some chocolate frosting in my system first. Don’t worry, I’ll get to those squats later. Tomorrow maybe. For sure this week though. Absolutely.
header photo courtesy of Flickr