busy busy

Can't believe all we got done this morning. Justin kept me company and moved around chairs and stuff while I swept and tidied the entire downstairs, which sorely needed it. Then we dropped off some film, went grocery shopping, had a lovely time at Fabricland while we waited for our pics, stopped off at my mom's to make sure everything was OK, came home.

Phew.

So. Downstairs: clean and tidy. Pictures: developed, although the roll was bad (drat!). Mom's place: ready for her to come back from Chile tomorrow. Us: fed (sushi from the store - MMM!). Justin: napping.

Me: tired, but happy.

meme

Gakked from latara, this was too cute. I had a lot of difficulty with the last question, "What's your favourite line?", because two of the choices were, "Doesn't that make you sad? It makes me sad," and "Did your mother ever tell you to go outside and play, Mulder?"

Really, how can you choose between those two?


You are Arcadia!!!! You are a stake out... you are
mean to your nieghbors and hate rules


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Marriage

So, I come back from choir. And I asked Chris to save me some dinner, because I had to leave at 7:45 and I wasn't going to get back until 10pm and I'd made a pretty nice dinner for everyone. The boys and I made Duncan Hines cake with homemade buttercream frosting this afternoon, and while Chris took Daniel to Beavers and Justin to do some errands, I made honey-curried chicken, sweet saffron rice, and brocoli. So I kind of wanted something nice to come home to.

Choir was great. The songs are coming together beautifully, our accompanyist is wonderful, I'm all psyched.

So I get in, it's late, I'm hungry, everybody's asleep, I go look for my dinner.

No dinner on the table. No dinner on the counter. No dinner in the microwave.

Damn. I'm upset, but remind myself that Chris had to get the boys fed, wound down, and off to bed by himself, and that this is not such a big deal. And I try not to resent the fact that I put a hell of a lot of work into dinner (have I mentioned I hate cooking?) and he couldn't even be bothered to save me a plate with some lousy chicken and rice. And I know he has memory problems, and I should be more understanding, and it's not such a big deal, except that I tell myself a lot of things aren't a big deal, and what the hell, just open the fridge and get myself a plate of food, no biggie -

And in the fridge is a plate covered with tin foil with "Xi ♥" scrawled on top (Xi is my nickname).

And so now I'm eating a wonderful dinner, with some apple cider, with a big smile on my face, and feeling pretty damn lucky.

It's nice, being married :)