Da Man and I had a bit of a thing last night because I pointed out to him that I didn't dig the giggly vet's rep. Of course, she was only doing her job, but I pointed out that she had stepped over some sort of boundary, in my opinion, and I also pointed out that mom, who had answered the phone the last time, now refers to her as Da Man's giggly friend. And I told him that I know a chicka is pretty much up to no good when she won't make eye contact with me when I'm standing right beside him. I don't like her. I don't really dig anyone who finds it uncomfortable to look me in the eye; I am one to believe that the eyes are the windows to the soul. But I am not going to go on and on about her now---at least not yet. But don't be surprised if she doesn't rear her giggly head again some time in the near future. *cackle*
I'm feeling a little better today. Then again, I have been out of bed for like a whole twenty minutes. Every muscle in my back, shoulder, and neck ached yesterday in an awful kind of way. It would almost double me over every time I had to pick Mak up. But I got a bunch of laundry done, which was a great thing. And I decided that my daughters own a retarded number of clothes.
I have two pairs of jeans and a few t-shirts that I like. My girls have so many clothes that they have overtaken two dressers and a couple clothes baskets. And that's a bit ridiculous, don't ya think?
What's really ridiculous about the clothes thing is the difference in the girls' sizes. Grace was in a size 4 diaper when she stopped wearing them. Mak is now in a size 4 diaper and is in no way ready to start potty training. Da Man and I were folding clothes last night. He held up a skirt to me and asked, "So this is Grace's?" I laughed and said, "Yeah, but Mak wears it too." How off is that?
The doc told me during Grace's last physical that she will probably be around 5'2" when she is full grown. What? Nowhere in my family line has anyone been 5'2". We come from good country stock; we chicks are born with those child bearing country hips. And Tim was average size. His sisters were bigger women. His brother, on the other hand, was a small man.
And then there's poor Mak, being made from a combination of mine and Da Man's genes. Da Man is a big man, and I am a big woman. She's doomed to be large. I can't believe she is wearing the same clothes that her 4 year old sister wears. And it's not because Mak is overly big; Grace is small and petite.
But maybe that will help her with her interest in ballet. She really dug the teacher and the ballet day camp this summer, so we signed her up for the fall class, which starts Sept. 9th.
And speaking of Grace and Mak, they're awake now so my quiet time is up. *sigh* Oh well, this was pretty much a post of babble anyway. Ha.