Began watching last episode of Bones, Season One, Disc 7.
Am interrupted by phone call from chickenone and happily talk for quite a while. (45-60 minutes, I'm not sure.)
Finish watching Bones. (Love, love, love that show!)
Think about cleaning up, then decide that three extra kids are going to be hanging out so a) why clean before they come to mess the place up (Great minds, T., great minds.) and b) I don't have any food to feed them, so at least a quick trip to the grocery store is in order.
Run to Trader Joe's and buy fresh fruit and miscellaneous snacks plus a few meal supplies.
Zig over to the regular grocery store to buy sodas.
Zag over to pet store to pick up bedding supplies for Bobby the hamster and to ask if our guinea pigs, which we signed over for adoption, have been adopted yet. It is busy in the store and personnel are scarce but, what do you know, I see Smokey in a cage, for sale at $32.99.
I decide not to confront someone in the store, because I'm weird about not wanting to embarrass the store employees by pointing out that the animal I gave them to adopt out is being sold. Instead, I walk out of the store, get in the car and CALL the store to ask if my guinea pigs were adopted. I'm told that there are no guinea pigs in the back, so they must have been taken. Hmmm... Smokey was very distinctive and I have no doubts about his identity.
I'm not all that upset by this. I wanted the guinea pigs gone because they were too much work and cost too much to feed and bed (although they were too, too cute). But, I would hope that this isn't a regular practice of this store which makes a point of doing small pet adoptions on Saturdays. I am giving the benefit of the doubt that Nibbler was adopted out and rather than leave Smokey alone (which guinea pigs hate), they put him in with the "for sale" piggies.
Colin is home and he and I unload the groceries. I still have about an hour before the kids are delivered.
Whoops! There they are. Let the chaos begin!
atypical, Julie and daisies, thank you for your suggestions. I loved reading how you would approach the same circumstance. Daisies' response made complete sense to me although I might not have guessed it beforehand. The other two responses were spot on what I might have guessed based on atypical's and Julie's writing. I like that the personalities revealed in a person's post are so authentic and true to self that you can begin to know how they might respond Inreallife.
Aliki, I got to go on the walk and to Starbucks and I'm still envious. It was that good!
After a few days up at Vegas and then spending the night and most of the next day with friends, Marley came home exhausted. She was terribly crabby while her friends were here and then she passed out at 7:00 in the bonus room. Paul and I have not done the co-sleeping thing with Marley. Colin was a frequent visitor to our bed, but little Miss Wild Thing, as young as six months would not go to sleep with us. If we tried, she just tortured us. There was no other option but the Cry It Out for her. However, during Paul's last couple of trips, I had some success making the bedtime transition more pleasant by offering to let her go to sleep in my bed. Initially I assumed that I would end up moving her back to her bed during the night. I was quite surprised to find that finally, FINALLY!, she would sleep through the night. In fact, she would sleep in later than when she is in her room. At the tender age of practically seven, I have started letting my daughter sleep with me. So around 7:30, I hoisted her up off the couch and deposited her in my bed.
This is what I found when I came to bed a few hours later (just ignore how fabulously decorated my boudoir is):
How am I supposed to sleep around that?
(I had her get up to use the restroom and then repositioned her accordingly. On this particular night, she woke up and went back to her room on her own.)