Phillip just left to play board games with a bunch of guys. Fun times, huh?! Okay, that was sarcastic. I am not the board game type. I have TRIED since we are friends with INTENSE BOARD GAMERS but alas, it is not to be. Partly because they are boring, partly because if I cannot win I do not want to play. Seriously. It's just better for EVERYONE if I am not deadset on having the longest train.
It's all good because Phillip doesn't get to play with his friends very often. This is his own fault (and theirs) of course, because for whatever reason, Men Do Not Make Plans. Whenever he does have a chance to hang out with the guys I always think, "How NICE." Well, right after I think, "Not until the kids are in bed!"
The other nice thing about when Phillip leaves to have fun with friends (as opposed to work travel or working late or school meetings or whatever) he does a little extra at home. As if to make sure I cannot possibly be upset with him for leaving. So all the trash is out and all his tools are cleaned up and YES, this makes me happy INDEED. Have fun with your game that requires action figures and ten different dice!
Anyway, I am bumbling around doing my work. This involved updating my Google calendar with the kids' school calendars (and finding out that they have separate Spring Breaks, UGH.) I filled out another nine thousand forms for Molly's school. (A PERSONALITY PROFILE? What for?! I basically used it to warn them about Potty Anxiety.) I did some money stuff and consolidated preschool papers into their appropriate folders, I emailed absolutely everyone back (unless you didn't get an email from me and you were expecting one, which means I did not and OOPS, PLS LET ME KNOW). I updated MY calendar with doctor appointments and baby showers and when my MIL decided to take time off for the baby. My house is still kind of a disaster but my calendar is organized!
I am tired and moody about the house disasterness and slightly overwhelmed by the preschoolness, but I still feel really itchy about doing stuff to my house and it's frustrating. NOW I want to paint the little room off the kitchen. I want to go find a nightstand at a garage sale or Goodwill to paint and match my coral nightstand. I want to make a crib skirt for the new baby's mini crib. I want to head to Ikea and buy all the rest of the stuff we want for the living room. I stood in the playroom for a good half hour this afternoon deciding how to rearrange and paint and where will I put my mom's old sewing machine and sewing machine table because OH YES I'M GOING TO LEARN HOW TO DO THAT TOO.
Then I remember I'm having a baby in four weeksish and, um, simmer down, Maggie.
Can I just tell you one other thing that I'm obsessing over, which is TOTALLY STUPID and yet I CANNOT HELP IT? I hate my hair. Hate it. This is the problem with cutting all your hair off: an earlobe-length bob is suddenly WAY TOO LONG. It looks half decent if I take the time to blow dry it (with volumizer) and flat iron the ends. It's not like I could just leave it when it was super short either. I still had to blow dry, but the blow drying took, like, SECONDS and I LIKED it. So I want to go back and chop it off again, but two things: 1) You have to keep cutting it all the time and will I have time to do that with a new baby? I know I'll WANT to, but you know how it goes. And 2) I AM TOO FAT. I feel like my FACE is pregnant and super short hair will be even more unflattering than what I've got right now. I don't know. Perhaps this is stupid. And the people I've happened to timidly ask about it appear to be people who didn't like my super short hair in the first place SO WHATEVER. Shut up, me. And I know you are the internet which means you want a picture, but TOO BAD, INTERNET. Don't got one! Don't wanna take one! I'm just gonna shave my head!
Although, I will tell you now, the shortness will return. Sooner or later. I am NOT going to grow it all the way out only to lose two thirds of it 6 months post partum. GAH.