Ag May ...

Yes - I am a stay-at-home mom, and I am the busiest that I have ever been, so "Thank Goodness It's Friday!"   Now, in memory of those good ole "working" days of being in the office, I am going to finish up early (leftovers for dinner tonight) and find myself the latest and hippest watering hole (chez moi) and treat myself to a glass of vino (or, in this case, tea and cake). What a day it has been - A little bit of baking... A little bit of sewing...  A little bit of computer time... A little bit of furniture rearrangement (again!  I'm addicted)... A little bit of clean up from last night's accident (it wasn't me!)...  And a little bit of parenting... You may ask - how do you fit all of this in????? Well *sigh* I did manage to brush my teeth this morning... Have a lovely weekend, everyone!!!

You know - when I gave birth to my second child I didn't use any drugs.  No epidural, no laughing gas, not even panadol.  This was not about "preference"; I just didn't need it.  The monitor said I was having contractions - I didn't feel it.  The monitor said I was having strong contractions - I said "Oh really? Hmm."  In the last 20 minutes I said to my Dear Husband "Oh, I can feel them now.  Can you please massage my back?"  And that was all the pain relief I needed - a back massage.  A couple of pushes later and Baby Mac was safely out. Although the birth of my first born involved a bit more pain, it was commented at the time that I had a very high pain threshold. Well... it would seem that I have a high pain threshold but only when giving birth. Faced with a needle going into my arm - I cringe. Holding my baby for her immunisation shots - I tense up so much that I'm nearly crushing her. And confronte...

Uh... yes... uh hi... Um... (deep breath) My name is Agnes-May and I am a a.)  yarn and fabric snob b.)  an angry grumpy mom c.)  an iron-the-cuff-while-grinding-your-teeth type d.)  rhetorical question asker e.)  an Ikea catalog addict. I would add a chocoholic but I have resigned myself to this being a lifelong affliction with no known cure.  As with any x-step program, the first step is admitting that you have a problem.  So these are my problems. a.), c.) and e.) are pretty self-explanatory, right?  With the ironing thing, there has been some progress.  I used to be an iron-the-cuff-and-shoulder-while-grinding-your-teeth type of person, but I've seen the benefit in ironing the shoulders of my Dear Husband's shirts (it makes his shoulders look more manly... rawr..) so they are no longer an issue.  Now, I just miss the cuff altogether and save myself the dental bills. As for b.) - angry grumpy ...

Do you tell jokes?  I don't.  Hardly ever anyway.  One - I don't know many jokes. Two - I can't tell jokes.   I stutter the punch lines which ruins it.  Or I'm laughing before I finish telling which, again, ruins it. And three - I have a really BAD sense of humour.    Only my husband gets it.   He gets my humour and reacts.   It's why I married him.     And yes, please note the purposeful use of "reacts" rather than "laugh" because ... yeah ... no ... he doesn't always laugh.  And the times when he does laugh he's usually not laughing at the joke; he's usually laughing at me.   But that's ok because that was the point of the joke - to make him laugh.  Which he does.  Why he's laughing ... well, that's secondary, isn't it? And what about pithy witty comments?   I'm full of them.   Clever, imaginative one-liners.  But, again, it's all in the...