A Watched Pot Never Boils

And a watched calendar never flips, aparently.

'Cause, oh my gosh, people, it's only January. And it is only Tuesday.

I can't even blame it on the weather, because, um, hello, Phoenix. We save our complaints for August.

I actually wish it were cooler. Then I see everywhere else and think, "Be careful what you wish for."

The last 3 days have been full of busy-ness, doctors (Mr. Man is great. I am still a healthy pregnant lady. In case you ever wondered, having an 18 month old with a UTI is no fun; take my word for it.), fussy babies, interrupted sleep, and the early-bright-eyed-and-bushy-tailed mornings that I seem to foster in the 3rd Tri.

You'd think the crazy would make the time fly, but no. It has made time stop. I have gone through at least 5 days in the last 48 hours. I'm pretty sure. So sure, in fact, I'd argue that the calendar is lying.


And since I'm normally a "Oh my gosh, how it is already _________?!?!" person, the slowness of time lately has been a real surprise.

(Ok, I'm pretty sure that, as I type, Mr. Man is trying to snake his foot around my belly to my back to grab some organ with his toes. Trippy.)

So, I'm going to go find myself something with caffeine (because oh-my-gosh it is only 2:45!!), and gear myself up for an afternoon of (recovering nicely) toddler fun. And bask in the glory of knowing that tomorrow is . . . Wednesday.