Lucky You! You're the winner of a brand-spanking new novel! (I went a bit overboard with this post...)

AAAAhhhhhh. The Muffin is in bed early, I have on my sweatpants, and I got some swanky red throw pillows for the couch on sale today! Life is peaches and cream...

Saturday: The Day Everyone Should Have Had

We journeyed up to Indianapolis on Friday evening and spent the night at a hotel with an indoor pool, much to the Muffin's delight. Even though BabyDaddy was a weenie-pants and would only get in the hot tub, (the pool was heated, but he still insisted it was too cold), Lil' C had a splendid time 'swimming', ("Look, Ma, I a fish!) and jumping from the side of the pool into my arms. Needless to say, it was a time and a half trying to get him to go to bed that evening. He refused to take off his swim trunks, so we pretty much had to chase him down (I ran him down the hall and BabyDaddy clotheslined him at the pass), to get his jammies on.

After getting what seemed like about 2 hours of sleep, we were up and ready to head to the Children's Museum. Can I just say that if you have kids, or if you can borrow a kid, (I know plenty of parents who would be willing to lend one out to you if you had the fancy), YOU SHOULD GO. It was ridiculously huge, and pretty much all-in-all amazing. I had to force myself not to run full tilt through the whole place like a five year old. The Muffin was beside himself. There was a huge sand area, waterscapes, train tables, an amazing 'Construction Zone' where the Muffin got to control a kid-sized bulldozer, race cars, dinosaurs; I cannot even remember everything. It was unreal - we probably could have spent a whole day on a single level. There were four floors. Seriously! My favorite thing was the 45-foot-tall blown glass sculpture; the best part was that you could go down to the lower level, where they had a huge circular reclining bench-type thing that revolved. You could lay back and look up at the glass sculpture -- it was like the world's biggest Kaleidoscope!

And following closely on the heels of this wonderful, wonderful day.....

Sunday: The Day I Shouldn't Have Gotten Out of Bed

BabyDaddy left us to go save the world bright and early Sunday morning, so I had to get up and get the Muffin and I to church by myself. Since we set our clocks up an hour, we didn't make it to the early service, which is the one we normally attend. I knew it was going to be an issue as soon as I attempted to drop Lil' C off in at the nursery. The 2-year-old class that he is normally in during the early service usually has about 6 to 10 kiddos and 2 nursery workers. This class had like 25 kids and 4 nursery workers, none of which we knew. The Muffin started digging in his heels even before we got half-way in the room. My usual instructions are "Just grab him up and love on him some", and that usually works. It seemed to this time as well. I stayed long enough to make sure the wailing had stopped, and the after a quick peek in to see the worker and the Muffin watching cars out the window, I snuck off to find myself a seat in the sanctuary. To give them credit, we had the chance to make it through one song before the Muffin's number popped up on the screen. I found him sitting with his backpack and sippy cup as close to the door as he could get, with his bottom lip pooched out so far he could have swallowed his face like that old guy at Ripley's Believe it or Not. (FIT #1 - Keep track now, there will be several.) Sighing, I gathered him up and headed out to the car. We did a quick McD's drive through for a large coffee for myself, and some apple dippers for the kiddo, then we headed over to the FD to see BabyDaddy and let the Muffin play. Thinking that I could finally spend my birthday money, we went to Kohl's next. MISTAKE. Oh, it all started out fine and dandy. Lil' C stayed close, came when I asked, and generally behaved well. I was trying on some clothes in the dressing room (Lil' C crawled under the door and I had to chase him down in my skivvies and one shoe, but that was minor compared to the events following), when I noticed "THE FACE". All Mommies should know what I mean when I say, "THE FACE". It is quite often seen paired with "THE GRUNT", and is usually foretelling of a small nuclear explosion in a child's pants. Great. Just swell. Thankfully, I had pretty much tried on everything I needed to, so we made a beeline for the registers to check out. There was one tweeny-looking boy working the registers, but there was only a single couple in front of me. "I'm fine," I think. "I'm totally going to be fine." The couple in front of me happened to be arguing the prices on some items along with applying for a Kohl's card. The minutes draaaaaged on. Finally, another tweeny with too-tight pants opened up another register, which I ran to like a drink of water on a hot day. By this time, the Muffin is squirming and pulling at my hand. I pick him up--and feel an unfortunately warm wet patch start spreading down my arm . I had three forms of payment. Birthday Cash. Birthday Pre-paid Visa. Debit Card. Tweeny-boy takes the cash, swipes the Visa, and then tells me my debit card won't go. (Begin FIT #2) Since it's also a 'Visa', you apparently can't use two Visa's on a single transaction. (Would've been nice to know in the beginning hot shot.) So he uses the Visa to buy a Kohl's gift card and proceeds to check me out all over again. I set the Muffin down to sign and get my receipt - and then he's gone. Just like that. Poof. In the span of about three seconds, my stomach hit the cheap tile, I stopped breathing, and I turned in time to see a flash of Sponge Bob shirt headed out the door into the parking lot. I dropped my purse, the contents exploding out onto the floor like someone had shattered glass, and I ran. Lil' C turned back to the doors once he was actually outside, I think realizing that he had messed up, but then when he saw me running toward him, I saw this huge smile crack his face as he turns again to run out into the street. HethinksitsagameHethinksitsagame. It was all I could think - he loves for me to chase him, and he was going "play chase" right out into the street. Thankfully, I caught him by the shirt sleeve before he made it off the sidewalk. And if you don't think that's enough for one day, after we made it home, got cleaned up, and had a nap, my crazy butt took him out AGAIN to Wal-Mart, because we needed groceries. (Cue FIT #3, #4, and #5.) I finally made it home, and both the Muffin and I collapsed in a heap and didn't move until Monday morning.

And last but not least:

Monday - The Day I Decided That Cute Shoes Are Not Worth Having My Feet Amputated

In my traumatic foray to Kohl's, I found the cutest pair of Vera Wang ballet flats. They were beautiful. They fit. AND THEY WERE ON CLEARANCE. So I threw them in the cart. I wore them on Tuesday and strutted into my office just like I was the spiciest thing on two ballet-shod feet. It started at about 8:30 with a, "Hmm, these pinch my toes a little bit..." This was shortly followed at 9am by "Wow, I feel like I'm getting blisters on my heels!" At 11am, my feet were screaming in protest. By 2pm, I had decided that it wasn't worth getting bloody blisters, which would lead to sepsis, which would lead to messy amputations with no anesthetic and a rusty hatchet, (okay, so I watched a civil war movie on cable the other day - sue me for being dramatic). I kicked off those bad boys, and went hippie for the rest of the day. So it is with great sadness that I am bidding goodbye to best looking and worst fitting shoes I have purchased in a while. **Sniff** Anyone out there a brave size 6 who thinks beauty matters more than comfort??