I sent an email to my friend earlier today in response to her well wishes to me for my first day of work tomorrow. I told her thanks…and that among other things I was hoping that I didn’t have any diarrhea. She gave me some appropriate advice that involved tums. I was mostly kidding when I made the diarrhea comment, except now I think I may have a little self fulfilling prophesy on my hands.
My guts are a wreck. Grippers.
I don’t feel particularly nervous about tomorrow at school, but I will admit that the morning has me a bit concerned. Doug won’t be here so I have to get up and get myself, three school kids and one tag along punk ready. Granted, I don’t have to actually get the big kids ready, but I do have to say “could you please hurry we need to be in the van leaving the driveway in (insert number of minutes here),” several times. Four lunches need to be packed, and I can just hear Ethan complaining if he doesn’t get to pack his lunch, even though he has NO reason to since Doug is getting him in the morning and they will be home at lunch time. So might as well make that five lunches. BUT, I can do it. I am sure of it. (Another wave of rot gut passes.)
Shall I keep a count of how many times I say the words “go back to bed” as I type this post. Yes, I think so. Current count: two.
I need to be in the kitchen doing as much lunch pre-packing as possible, and making some muffins for breakfast tomorrow. But I am here. Typing. Stalling maybe.
The kids all have their clothes laid out. Erin said, just tonight at 7:45pm, “is the washer empty?” “No, why?” “Because I need some shorts clean to wear for school tomorrow.” *sigh* And it begins.
Until tomorrow,
Jen
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