If today is an accurate indicator, I'll be in my skinny jeans in about a week, because pretty much all we did ALL.DAY.LONG was walk circles around the neighborhood.
From the time we woke up and realized we were all out of diapers for Anderson, meaning my designated shower time turned into a frantic trip to Walmart before J had to leave for work or I'd be stuck taking both kids on a diaper run (or trying to squeeze a size 4 booty into a size 1 diaper, which I did actually consider because it sounded more appealing than Walmart at 8am), it was just one of those days. When one wasn't screaming, the other one was. And around 4:00, just as the end of the day was coming into view and I thought I might get away with turning on Oprah and getting off my feet for ten minutes ... they decided taking turns wasn't cutting it, so they may as well BOTH scream. For no reason. Other than that the big one was teething and his nose was running like a faucet, the little one was ... well ... just doing her new "scream whenever I'm not being held and sometimes even when I am being held" thing, I guess.
So all this to say we did a whole lotta walking today. Which is always enjoyable once we get going, because I do like to be outside and A likes to point out birds and planes and that makes me smile, and V promptly conks out in the Moby or the Bjorn and she's cute as a damn button all snuggly and sleepy in there. The problem is, the peaceful happy feelings ended each time about three minutes after we strolled back through the front door and my tantrum-prone toddler found SOME injustice to scream about (a Lego stuck in the cab of his dump truck, a sippy cup that dared be empty, the sky being blue, etc.) Then it was back to screaming.
Anyway. We survived, tomorrow's a new day, and I've got popcorn popping and some RHONYC (for the Bravo-challenged, that's Real Housewives of NYC) waiting for me on the DVR. Tootles.