So, somehow, even though my kids have pretty much had the entire month off for various Jewish High Holidays and for various jewish high holiday eves and jewish high holiday morning-afters, they are off tomorrow again. Parent/teacher conferences. oh goodie. I actually am looking forward to speaking to their teachers. and I have three free baskin robbins ice cream coupons that I’ve been meaning to use on the munchkins.  and I promised to play a little Rock Band with Josh and if you’ve ever heard my son belt out his new favorite song “Eye of the Tiger” you will understand the pure joy in this activity. I am looking forward to it.

If I’ve learned one thing in the 2 1/2 months that we’ve been here in Atlanta it is this:  my three children are actually ridiculously awesome mini people and I really like to be around them, even if I don’t dress well enough for Emily’s liking.

(parenting FTW!)

But you know those hours between 8:05 and 2:55? that’s when I am supposed to be working. that’s when I am supposed to be earning a living. aye, there’s the WAHM rub.  those hours during the day are for my, you know, actual job. except when they can’t be. Because we need milk. or I need to find a medicine for Emily that isn’t grape or bubble gum or cherry flavored (read: not an easy task). or Isabella is off of school for a week. or the other kids are out of school. or someone is sick. or Indy is being stubborn and I have to take him outside 87 times a day because when it rains he won’t do his business anywhere but my stepmom’s expensive oriental rugs. or I need to run almost 3 miles (yay!). or I need to shower after said run. or firefox crashes. or firefox crashes again. or my laptop dies. or I need to buy myself some clothing for my upcoming trip to Boston and New York (are you coming to the Aiming Low parties??) because I now live in the south and have no winter clothing because it was almost 80 degrees outside today and my winter coat is sitting in a box in a storage facility in Toronto which means that it helps me exactly not at all.

But, LO, there will be ice cream tomorrow. so there’s that. (work? what work?)

and I was never an ice cream person. cookies. pie. cake. you name it, I want it in ma belly. but ice cream? I was always all I’ll pass, thanks. Until, um, I tasted it again for the first time. and oh my heaven…

have you tried this? If you like birthday cake…you will like this. that blue ribbon? buttercream icing. no, really.

(ps. side note. I was also never a hot dog person. I probably hadn’t had a hot dog since I was about Emily’s age and then the husband forced me to have one at a baseball game because in his eyes it’s just not right to go to a ball game and not experience it the way it’s meant to be – with beer and hot dogs. Oh, and also because one day I was just sitting at my desk and work and had this serious craving for hot dogs. and no I was not pregnant. crazy, but not pregnant. and then, ohmigod, I had a corndog. and now I’m screwed for life because I effing love hot dogs)