I am a terrible blogger

I love blogging. Honestly, reflecting on something that happened in my life and making it into something funny is tremendous therapy. Every day I intend to blog. Even if it is not a reflection on the whole day, I hope to at least sit down at the keyboard and type up a snippet for my very small, yet devoted, readership. Surely I could use the therapy.

But I realized that I am too busy for therapy. Here it is 11:30 and I'm getting my first dose of daily therapy. Shouldn't I be asleep?? Goodness knows I'm sleepy. And Matt sure looks comfy asleep next to me. But this is the first moment I have had for blogging therapy all day. In hindsight I can't remember going to the bathroom. And I'm sure I never brushed my teeth today. So blogging took a backseat like it does on many days. But as always, I think it was worth it.

Today Helen laid down on the floor of a restaurant refusing to go in. The floor. Face down, laying flat on the floor. Dirty restaurant. Diners stepping over her to enter. Lovely. She kept taking her food and fingers and dipping them into her refried beans like it was playdough. Patrick almost choked on a banana and kept throwing food and cups. Helen refused to sit in her highchair, so the majority of the lunch was spent in my lap. There was mess, there was screaming, thank goodness there was Coke and salsa. All of this with a friend due to have her first child on Saturday. Just the impression I want to make on an almost mom.

That was just lunch. But somehow an afternoon wagon ride with Helen and Patrick wearing their matching NASA flight jackets (courtesy of Astronaut Ger) sounded like better therapy than blogging. And it was. So maybe my blog is lacking, but its only because I'm too busy being happy.

Nonetheless, all this happiness wore me out. I'm too tired to even rehash the rest of the day. I think for today sleep will be my therapy.