L left for our yearly Mexico trip this morning at the very merry hour of 5 a.m. I say our yearly trip, but you'll notice I'm still here. According to people who most likely know more than me (which includes a high percentage of the population, I know) I'm not supposed to leave H2 overnight for a year. While I considered finding to someone to care for H1 and taking the little magpie* with us, I reconsidered based on the fact that the trip was to go up into the mountains again.

To put it in mathematical terms (something you're not used to seeing on this blog, I know, but I'm feeling kind of quirky tonight), when you take into account the number of hot showers taken by me on last year's trip (1), subtract the number of trips days (7), multiply by the number of clinic hours (48, at least), and divide by the hours spent on a bus traversing winding, look like they are about to be the sight of a major mudslide roads (8), I came up with the number -41, and that simply didn't look like a good number to me. So I elected to stay home. Right. I'm a pansy.

I've been rather mopey while L was getting ready for his trip, but a week ago when he received an email saying they wouldn't be staying at the hotel we stayed in last year, but at private homes instead, and to expect no running water or electricity, well, I wasn't so mopey anymore. I can rough it when required to, but I have no qualms about telling you I'm glad it is not required of me. Unless you consider staying home with my two kids for a week roughing it, which you might (I think I do, too).

So, here I am. And since L didn't go sailing in the spring like he often does, spring cleaning never really got done here in Slushville. I need L to leave for at least a week every year so I can get some serious psyco cleaning going on. So tonight I have

• scrubbed approximately 3 square feet of grout (you think I exaggerate, but this is actually the space I cleaned- our grout is narsty. It was dirty when we moved in, and it is an insanely light color that only a man would have picked out, so now it is really icky. I despair of this project, so I'm moving on to bigger and better things. Apparently I'm not only a pansy, but a quitter too).
• vacuumed and/or wiped down the furniture in my living room
• restored order to my kitchen (though it still needs some cleaning action)
• cleaned out my desk
• watched the Razorbacks beat SC

And while my watch says it is 130 a.m., I guess really it is only 1230, and I'm getting in bed at a fairly respectable hour. So woohoo for me.

*Apparently, magpies have rather poor taste in food. I discovered this earlier today when I was googling things like "eating lava rocks" and "babies eating fireplace rocks" and "are lava rocks poisonous". What that has to do with a magpie, I don't know, but I thought it was a cute name for someone who won't stop his love affair with the decorative rocks surrounding our gas logs. After pulling two rocks out of his mouth (for the umpteenth time, yes, I'm mother of the year, I know), I finally bagged them all up and put them away until the baby is older. And how many has the child actually swallowed? Probably thousands. I have no idea, but I'm optimistic that his recent gain of 1 lb may have something to do with our fireplace, because he certainly isn't interested in food. But then, who would be when they could be eating lava. So I designed this, and I'm ordering one for my baby.



I eat rocks when Mommy's not looking Infant Bodysuit