There's a blog I read. Occasionally, she tells real life stories of crazy events with her many many kids. And I just laugh and nod. And love it.
I have a story of my real life. Not because it is flattering to me. AT ALL. But because I know that others may have been in a similar situation....or maybe not. :) But I know that these are stories that, amazingly, I will forget one day. It will be an event of the past. So this, I suppose, is more for posterity than anything. And a chuckle for me and my Mom.
I was out to the pharmacy to get a prescription filled for the baby. It's not quite 9:00pm, I remember, because the pharmacy closes at 9:00. It was probably 8:30ish. I will neither confirm or deny whether I had brushed my teeth that day. It was the first time I had been out of the house all day. I had been with 4 little girls from the moment my eyelids opened until 8:00ish when Brian got home.
Of course, I see friends. They are also waiting for their prescription to be filled.
I look down at myself, I have visible and probably smellable spit up on my shirt. My hair looks absolutely and completely ridiculous. I remember putting on a few squirts of perfume sometime during the day...wonder how long ago that has been...and if it's working.
Three of my ten nails have fingernail polish on them from a manicure time with Evelyn. Two are purple and one is green. The rest are terribly chipped with fading pink sparkly polish from another little girl manicure time...a few days before, with Viv. Feeling all of a sudden pretty confident that I didn't put on deodorant.
My outfit is atrocious. I try to remember whether or not I slept in this shirt. I could go on and on about how completely wacky I looked.
I stop to talk with the friends, and somehow just can't... stop.... talking. I apologize and say, 'you're the first adults I've talked to all day. Sorry I am rambling.'
They were so gracious. And kind.
And said they couldn't smell the spit up on my shirt.
Trust in the LORD and do good; dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture.