It finally happened. Last night, I was able to leave the house without the boys without any babysitters getting into any last minute fender-benders, any great aunts or uncles dying, OR anyone projectile vomiting* before I could leave the driveway.. I know it doesn't sound like much of an accomplishment, but considering all of those things have happened the last three or four times I've made plans to go out, I wasn't about to jinx anything and announce my plans beforehand so the universe could screw with me. *And actually, that's not entirely true. All was going reeeeeallly well and then ten minutes before I was scheduled to leave, one of the dogs horfed two days worth of kibble onto the living room floor (you're welcome for the visual). I want you to know that I calmly cleaned it up, gave the dog some Pepcid, turned my fist to the sky and said, "Nice Try, Universe, I'M STILL LEAVING." I didn't even feel a momentary bit of guilt because our friend Diana was babysitting and I am pretty sure that Hopper wants to marry her. I'm only basing that on the number of times he threw himself into her arms and said, "HI, IT'S NICE TO SEE YOU" before I even left the house (FOUR).
(this posting has been revised upon request because, I believe the technical term is: YOU ARE NOT READY FOR THIS JELLY. I will post the rest of it in its entirety when Jelly Preparedness has been reached.--thanks!)