I don't suppose there will be alot of flow or cohesivity (yes I just made that word up) to this post, but I shall post it anyway.
I have done alot since I last posted. A. Lot. For instance, I ate two of the most delicious brownies on the face of the earth. They were choclately, they had chunks, they had frosting, and crunched up candy canes on the top. Normally I don't like mint and chocolate together, but dang if I didn't eat two of those brownies in about 2.4 seconds like some kind of crazy person.
I made a cake. And iced it. And ate none of it. Miraculous.
I made no bake cookies. Or, as Alex called them, Easy Bake No Cookies.
I made sugar cookies to decorate, then left them out like an idiot and they ended up strewn about the house with cat tooth shaped holes in them.
I then suffered a diabetic coma from the eight pounds of sugar I have eaten.
I spent all of Thursday morning with the shelter boys, and was again amazed and blown away by how precious and awesome they were. Again I was expecting to end the shift by duct taping all of them to the walls, but ended instead by loving them all dearly. Then I spent all of Thursday night with four more boys, three of them teenagers. The vast differences between teenage boys and teenage girls are incredible.
I drove to work today at 11. I had about ten minutes of my drive left when the baby shifted and found a more comfortable place in my uterus. It just happened to be right on top of my bladder. The rest of the drive was torturous, and I really thought I was going to pee my pants. Please take a moment to imagine a mango sized person sitting on top of your bladder. Not pretty. Right on cue, when I got to the shelter, the baby moved and I was fine. Bah. Babies. I spent the next few hours answering the door, organizing presents, answering the phone, moving boxes, throwing things away and breaking down boxes. Then I spent the next eight hours with the babies. The babies are awesome. They poop, cry and sleep and they are happy to eat, have their pants changed, and be sung to. All of these things I can do with exceptional grace and little brain power. Because I am awesome. And because these skills are essential in doing a job like mine.
For example, I was on my way to the bathroom, when I heard a wee voice from down the hall. "Hey...Hey", wee voice called out. I turned around and saw one of the pre-schoolers standing just inside the bathroom doorway, pants around his ankles. I asked him if he needed some help and he responded "I need you to wipe my butt." A lesser woman would have balked at his request. Not me, I calmly whipped out the diaper wipes and cleaned his little booty, and even helped him change into clean pants, all the while whistling a jolly tune. Later, when one of the baby babies was not terribly excited about having her diaper changed and would have rather run around naked (which we really aren't supposed to allow) I entertained her into submission by singing "Daa Daa Daa", the same three notes over and over.
Unfortunately, and still poop related, I happened to hear the intestinal symphony of a co-worker when I walked too closely to the bathroom door. It was mildly traumatic.
And friends, this is where my tale ends. Sorry it's not a better story. And sorry for being overly proud of my poop cleaning abilities.