On Monday, I attempted to bring order to the chaos of my life by printing this lovely rainbow-colored spreadsheet and sticking it to my fridge. It is called Weekly because I am an idealist and Acts of Service because sometimes I like to be obnoxious. It is actually working pretty well so far; hopefully I can sustain my momentum long enough to tick off the last few things, at which point I will probably give up on keeping a clean house until next year. It is really hard to turn over a new leaf when one is pregnant and therefore unable to engage in prolonged exertion, climb on chairs, or handle dangerous chemicals with impunity. (I still handle chemicals sometimes, but I wear gloves and wash my hands obsessively and maybe have an anxiety attack or two.)
(My mother is coming in November and December, so my apartment won't become hopelessly dirty before 2014 rolls around.)
My cleaning frenzy was slowed significantly by the fact that the vacuum hasn't been working properly. I tried cleaning the beater brush and that didn't solve the problem, so at the advice of Facebook (i.e. my mother and Melanie B) I checked the vacuum cleaner bag. It was stuffed to overflowing (oops), so yesterday I went out and got vacuum cleaner bags. They work fine, but it has not resolved the problem with the beater brush. Scott can't figure out how to fix it either. I am making due with this tiny beater brush that I think is meant to be used on stairs. It gets clogged every 100 square feet or so and needs to be disassembled, cleaned, and reassembled, so vacuuming takes a very long time. Blargh.
I have an appointment with an asthma/allergy specialist on Monday because my primary care doctor thought I should have such an appointment after my lung thing a few weeks ago. (I've been doing much better this week, in case you're wondering. Pink fluffy hearts to Pulmicort.) So Thursday night I went to print out the new patient forms and halfway through my printer refused to work because it did not have enough ink to maintain print quality. Seriously, printer? You can't give me two low-quality pages just so I don't have to deal with that this week?
So I toddled off to Wal-Mart yesterday morning and got printer cartridges. (A black one, which we need urgently, and a color one, which we will need soon, and who wants another crisis + emergency Wal-Mart run?) Scott changed the ink for me when he got home, so now I can work on my forms, which ask things like whether I was breastfed as an infant. Apparently that's important with allergies and stuff.
As a rebellion against all this busyness, I made brownies and vanilla custard yesterday. The brownies are from a recipe my friend Mari got off the side of a cocoa tin. The custard is my own recipe and was intended to go with a french toast casserole thing I made Thursday night. I have been tossing handfuls of frozen blueberries on as well. Nom nom nom.
Dad and Teresa are apparently going to some kind of father-daughter dance tomorrow. Mom thought to get Dad's suit to the dry cleaner's, but didn't think about a dress for Teresa until Wednesday. Fortunately, she went to Target on Thursday and found this dress. I find this blog-worthy because seriously, how often do you walk into a store and find something that's reasonably modest, pretty, and affordable in time for your event two days away?
Teresa is taking some kind of homeschool art class. Here she is with a pear that she drew.
And here she is running a lending library...except apparently you had to pay money to get books. And you couldn't browse; she picked a book for you and handed it to you.
Matthew continues to be adorable and talkative and fond of climbing on things. Here is a random picture of him because he hasn't appeared on this blog in a while:
Scott and I managed to watch Agents of SHEILD on abc.com Thursday night. We enjoyed the show, but it has definitely been too long since we watched TV that wasn't Netflix or library DVDs. Or not long enough. I had forgotten how terrible commercials are, especially when you see the same 3 or 4 half a dozen times in the course of an hour.
For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!