I never like to let negative posts like the previous one linger at the top for so long. Temporary explosive situations that have me screaming into the computer out of frustration shouldn’t spend so much time being “current.”
So it’s the 9 Days now, and I didn’t finish the laundry. Want to know why? Because I had no energy. Physical energy, I mean. Laundry takes physical energy, and I had none. Even the loads that were done haven’t been folded. That also takes physical energy, but I actually don’t mind folding — it’s the putting away that I can’t stand. At least RS can do hers herself. One might argue that the twins, being almost ten years old, also “could” do theirs themselves, but let’s just say that I much prefer expending the effort myself to witnessing what becomes of my beautifully folded piles if I leave it to them. Heh. One might also argue that I should start some sort of exercise regimen, and/or modify my diet, and/or get more sleep, so as to increase my energy level. One would be right to argue thus. I’m waiting for something to make it clear to me that I need to start taking my health seriously. I’m hoping the “something” will be a mature realization of what it means to be an adult, rather than “something” else.
ST goes to camp. Want to see a picture of her climbing a bouncy inflatable thing?
Heehee. Want to see a picture of her running along a fountain in London?
Heehee. Want to see a picture of her on a bus in London, making her “silly face”?
Heehee. For a few weeks, that was also her “yes” face. Meaning, instead of nodding her head for “yes” as she had been doing until that point, when she wanted to say yes she would make that face. It was hilarious. Over the last few days, however, she seems to have gone back to nodding.
Want to see a picture of her rubbing sand all over herself at a gigantic awesome playground in London?
Heehee. Want to see a picture of her rolling around on her back with her legs up in the air in the lobby of our hotel?
Heehee. I think that was the lobby of our hotel. Don’t know where else it might have been, though in theory it could have been anywhere. Anywhere in London, I mean.
Ok, are we done looking at pictures of my baby? Should I insert one of my whole family? Should I get over my issues regarding posting pictures of my kids on the stupid Internet? No, I do not believe I should. Should I attempt to white out their faces, and then post a picture of my whole family? Hmm. Ok, yes I will.
So, there you have it. The Boy, G, three faceless girls, myself, and ST. At the Tower of London. With Tower Bridge in the background, with the Olympic rings on it. They had just been put up the day before. We had a private tour of the Tower of London, you know, before it was open to the public. This is because we were in London courtesy of Make-A-Wish. This is because my daughter had a stroke. A real live Beefeater — a.k.a. Yeomen Warder — took that picture. Did you know the dudes who guard the palace(s) — the ones with the giant furry hats — are not the Beefeaters, the Tower of London dudes are. They’re the ones who wear the silly uniforms, thusly:
That’s Colin. Nice guy. He gave us our private tour, then this other dude gave us a private tour of the Crown Jewels, then this lady gave us a private tour of the White Tower. Awesome.
I think it might be time to get the kitchen together, you know, in preparation for Shabbos… and maybe fold some laundry… or not. Shabbat shalom.
Once again pictures of your baby girl convince me that she looks funny. Not, mind you, that she is funny looking. But that she looks like she is funny. Like if she were to tell a joke, I’d be predisposed to laugh. Haha, we would all chuckle merrily, before she even reached the punchline.