What was I thinking?

I've had alot of those moments lately. Actually, the majority of my moments lately have concluded or been interrupted by the exact thought...what was I thinking? (But sounding in my head more like...what the h-e-double-hockey-sticks was I thinking?) My ability to reason these days is on vacation somewhere tropical and breezy.

Like the time last Wednesday when I thought it a noble idea to wash the perfectly clean white duvet cover on our king sized bed. I love fresh bed sheets and thought I should extend my cleanliness to the duvet cover. Oh how I wish I could rewind to that moment and slap myself on the head. Today I am finally dealing with the consequences after many days of delay. You see, I DON'T IRON. I should, I know. I have oodles of time on my hands with a 6 months old. I just don't like it and honestly, I don't know how so everything gets taken to the dry cleaner and I skip 6 meals a month to be able to pay for our astronomical dry cleaning. (Mind you, this is the same girl who begged the lady at the coin laundry to wash and fold her clothes when she first moved here just so she didn't have to do it - even if it meant nearly $70!!!) Yes, I have this thing called an iron but it was a hand me down from a regular ironer (my mother) who would have thrown it away had I not convinced her that I would actually enjoy (gag) ironing. Anyway, I have now flattened a whole 2 square feet of the comforter. It looks terrible and it took me 25 minutes. Seriously, what's a girl to do? Nap time will soon be over and I still don't have a put together bed to sleep in tonight. Sorry Brad. This project may have to be delegated as well.

(But to make me feel better my butter nut squash that is baking in the oven makes my house smell like a homemaker's dream! A house that smells this cozy must be a house where the wife irons and cleans and makes banana bread, right?)

Moving on....this afternoon I sat in my drive way with an 8 ball a oiji board and a rabbits foot deliberating the question of the day....really, of every day. TO LEAVE BROOKS IN THE CAR NOW THAT HE IS ASLEEP OR ATTEMPT TO PUT HIM IN HIS CRIB FOR THE DURATION (potential 1.5 hours) OF NAP? I couldn't come to a conclusion so I asked the working member of our household and as expected - because he likes a challenge (and secretly I think he thinks my days are pure giggles and fun over here every minute) he decided that I should quickly get him in his crib and then carry on giggling and creating fun. Well that is the last time I will take daddy-o's advise. The little guy has yet to fall asleep - 40 minutes later. Have you ever tried to "carry on" while listening (but trying not to listen) to a baby fall asleep? Yeah, it doesn't work. Every silent second seems like an eternity and I literally think in my head...."okay, quiet....quiet (this can't be true)....quiet (I know he's not asleep)" WAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH. Why do I always have to be right? Please go to sleep. This sequence is repeated every time there is a break in the noise. Anyway, what was I thinking? Oh, I know what I was thinking.....won't it be fun to spend my Monday afternoon learning to iron on the largest piece of ironable thing in my house while listening to the baby pretend to go to sleep for what seem like hours on end. (Sorry for the sarcasm today. No more I promise.)

Or try this one on for size. I am coming home from a lovely lunch downtown today when I decided to take a new route home (even though I know the quicker the route meant the possibility to make it home to get Brooks down in his crib and not have to deal with the above.) Let's just say I ended up on Martin Luther King Blvd and you know what that means in any city. In addition, I wanted to change Brooks' stinky diaper before he actually fell asleep so I proceed to pull over into a gravel lot in order to change him. Some crazy looking man asked Brooks for a dollar and I figured he could wait until we got home with his stinky diaper.

Oh......my stomach is turning. There has been 10 seconds of silence from the nursery. Could it be that I actually may get to tackle another 2 feet of my dreaded project? In that case, maybe I'll just get the little guy up! Kidding. I'm going to find someone who enjoys ironing or at the least is effective at this chore (meaning: the wrinkles actually come out!)