Yesterday's Babble

Yesterday, oh yesterday. 

It wasn't a terribly, no good, horrible day. It was actually a pretty darn good day of un-noteworthy normal. Which, in my blog world, means I have a lot of (not) cohesive notes to share. 
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We walked to story time and made it a bit early, but only after starting to get ready an hour beforehand. It only took one hour because Conor was nice on my first full day without help and slept in until ten. Only one is a success? Starting with my bar low. Nice and low. 
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Once we departed story time otherwise known as Ryan-stands-while-everyone-else-sits-time, we entered quite the fall wonderland. Colorful leaves, huge snowflakes and a pat on the back to my morning self who decided to dress everyone in many layers. 


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Let's talk about this photo. A God's view selfie, I guess we could call them. A mark of a blogger or at least a mark of an Instagrammer. Campus was pretty quiet when I did the whole raise my phone over my head and blindly tap, tap, tap on my phone in the hope that at least one photo captures the boys and their #nofilterneeded background and not an unfortunate shot of my chest or my uncombed hair. Even if campus weren't quiet, I'm already the weird young one with kids; will a little embarrassing interpretive dancing be detrimental to my not important image? No. But when I think of myself behind the insta-scene, it's an insta-chuckle.

My editor is probably going to say that that whole paragraph does not make sense at all. And he is probably (definitely) right. Nevertheless, who got that? Because you get blog hugs from me. A valid currency, no?
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Ryan got to try out his snowflake catcher for the first time this season. 
Video here. Conor wasn't interested as he just wanted his lunch-milk.
Ryan-catching-snowflakes from Katrina on Vimeo.

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I went to heat something in the microwave only to be greeted by a burnt scent and a not-so-sweet memory from the day before that graham crackers CAN burn in the microwave. 
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The sandman forgot to stop by at nap time. He is probably on vacation. I hope he gets sand in his swimsuit.
Stubborn and nap - defiant since 2012

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Hulu plus and Bob the Builder wasn't working on the TV. Four o'clock circles around, the brooms come out and the witching hour of the day begins.

A lot of sand. I hope he gets a lot of sand in his swimsuit.
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Ryan has created another opportunity to play peekaboo - between his legs during diaper changes. Now the soiled nature of those is offset by, "Peekaboo, Iseeyou!" I'll take it. 
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I had dinner prepped to be heated at five. 5:40 o'c'ock as Ryan says rolls around, and I remember that it is Tuesday. On Tuesdays, Chris has a meeting after work, but I could not remember if he gets home at 6 or 6:30. In case you didn't know, there are 777 or so minutes between 6 and 6:30 in stay-at-home mom time. And the number of minutes between 6:30 and 6:31? Don't even joke about it. Not funny. 

6:29 pm, the Harrington home
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It is funny that any poor behavior that occurs in the time between the expected time of arrival and the actual time of arrival absolutely must be blamed on the parent that isn't home. Am I right or am I right?
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But then, Chris came home, and all was right. Not just me. 
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What does the camel say? I don't know, but at bedtime when I sang that the new camel on Old MacDonald's farm had a spit here and a spit there, I sent Ryan into a peal of belly laughs. And another and another. It was one of those moments that was too good. I like that he thinks I'm funny when I don't even think that I am. 

So that was yesterday. I love you, yesterday, and I love this blog that I get to document you on.

Today we had a newborn who is, well, a newborn who wanted nothing else to be carried and a toddler with a fever who wanted nothing else than to be carried (not held, carried. And he requests that the piggy to his back-ride walk). Poor guy. Prayers that he gets better!