Earthmovers and Sandcastles

Apparently, the universe felt I needed humbled, from the get-go, today. To wit:

- Gabe woke up with a nightmare this morning. I guess I must have been a little harsh with my scolding last night before bed, since he dreamed (though he didn’t want to tell me; he told me it was “too creepy” and might give me a nightmare) that I was trying to get rid of Sam because he messed up my bed.

- He’s been humoring me today when he plays on Eric’s DS, at which I am utter crap, and he knows it; he brings it to me when it involves reading, then swiftly takes it away because “this is a hard part.”

- Sam brought home math homework, corrected by his teacher, with errors to be fixed. Um, I may have gone over this piece of homework after he finished it the first time.

- I’m the “best cook in the world!” as declared by both my boys! I need to make more meals like this one! Huzzah! I…boiled spaghetti and put some jarred sauce on it. Woo?

Not to mention that I completely spaced on today being Epiphany, and that we had presents that were to have been delivered by the three wise men this morning. Oops. Good thing that neither boy reads calendars or will know the difference if those three guys are a day late in arriving. Roads were icier than their camels are used to traveling. That’s my story, anyway.

I’ve always enjoyed reading blogs and journals that are written with sometimes brutal honesty, not whitewashing the authors foibles and failures. That doesn’t mean I don’t blush as I share, though. Somebody, please, join me at the confessional! Tell me that I’m not the only one that life decided to take down a few pegs today! I’d pour myself a glass of wine, but something tells me it might end up all over the floor instead of in my glass.

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