Spit Shock and Piggy PT

Went to bed last night at 2 a.m. I had to settle a few things in my mind before I could sleep. It took longer than I anticipated. Boy, I sure wasted a lot of time being down on myself, down on others and just being plump ungrateful. I hate that it got the best of me.

I woke up at 8:30. Abigael hadn't even made a peep yet. She went to sleep last night at...8? I know, I know, I have an angel in the midst! Instead of waking to her hungry cries, I woke to Noam pulling my hair. He said he was "weeding" and said I had "white strings" in my hair. Uh, yea. It's called GREY!

Noam bounds out of bed, I stumble and drag myself to the bathroom. I brush my teeth. Noam goes potty. Good boy. I was getting a cup of coffee while Noam brushed his teeth while happily admiring himself in the mirror.


Just as I walked in to check on him with my phone camera ready to shoot my big boy brushing his teeth, I saw him SPITTING IN THE DRAWER! What in the world?!?!? I had the perfect photo, but not the one I anticipated! His look says it all. Guess he knew better!

After cleaning the drawer out, I decided Abigael just had to get her hair up in pig tails. It gets so matted and tangled otherwise because it is so long. THAT was a chore! It was definitely a good round of physical therapy. For I had to sit her on the counter, keep her held sitting forward (i had her face the bathroom mirror - it worked like a charm!) so I could part and comb her hair. The tough part was getting the hair into a tail and holding it - only to struggle even more to wrap it all up in the very cool tangle-free rubber bands I found for her extra fine silky hair.

That was about as an eventful morning as I could handle. P.T. at 2. Nap now!