There. It's in the Journal

I have been told to journal this so I can laugh about it later.

After a week of the flu and then a week of recovering from the flu I then caught a short stomach bug. We went to church for a parenting class and I finally threw up in the church’s garden shortly after the class ended. It was not my finest moment. I was dressed cute, kneeling on the concrete as a couple passed behind us, and vomited up a lunch and late afternoon snack. I was no longer feeling very cute. Later Simon puked all over Brad, the couch, and the carpet. That was the end for Simon. I, however, spent the night puking up liquid. It was disgusting.

Monday I was able to take care of the children until later afternoon when the headache and severe sleepiness set in. I called Brad to come home, which he did.

I was in bed for a much needed nap and asleep for good by 8:00pm. God bless my husband. That man acts out real love.

Today, Tuesday, I am back to normal. I walked into the kitchen to find the floor dotted and splattered with dark blue… dried… ink. I mean, think Jackson Pollock. I called Brad to hear the story. Nathan had made a cute quill at our homeschooling academy. After leaving it in the car, showing it to relatives, sticking it in the mud and in his hat, and ripping all the little feather segments apart, the cartridge finally broke. He threw the feather in the trash can and the cartridge fell on the floor. That caused a nice large spill of blue. The boys, since they’re boys, decided to drive their cars through the ink, which caused tracks of ink to spread through out the floor. Brad later found them and probably got some on his shoe, which tracked more ink all over.

There. Now it’s officially journaled. I will laugh at this mess later. It might be after the apartment managers rip the security check in half, but I’m sure I’ll laugh at it later.

And I must say, childhood friend, Jenna, when you told me you weren’t going to paint the walls until your boys were done destroying the house I must admit I found that a bit strange. As a mom of a girl I have to say I thought you didn’t quite control your children very well. Now, as a mom of two girls and two boys, I have to tip my hat to you. Here’s to not being able to control your children. J