Sunday Morning

Don't you just love it when you bathe your kids on Saturday night, send them off to bed, and then find that one of them has vomited in her bed the next morning? And it's not just in the bed, it's on her pajamas and in her hair. That's always lovely.

My Hubby plays in the worship band at church, so he is often up there before I'm out of bed. Our church does an early service, and the band practices an hour before that, so he gets there a whole 2 hours and 15 minutes before I get there for the "Bible Fellowship" hour. (I'm old school. It's called SUNDAY SCHOOL in my mind, but I guess that sounds to old fashioned for people today.) So he left this morning long before the wonderful discovery of Little Girl in her vomit bed. And wouldn't you know it, he left his cell phone at home (for the second week in a row). Seems like it's difficult for us to coordinate on Sundays when we're not going and coming together, but we need to meet up in the middle. And leaving the cell phone at home doesn't make that any easier.

In my mind, there's no reason that Big Girl can't still go to church. I got her dressed, and arranged with some friends who live near us and go to our church to take her with them, along with a note for Hubby and his cell phone.

I've stayed home this morning washing sheets, hair, panties, pj's, all for Little Girl. She's been watching whatever is on Noggin all morning. Poor girl. She seems to be fine, but I'm afraid to feed her too much.

Saturday (yesterday) morning, I woke up remembering one of those really weird dreams that makes very little sense. In the dream, I was driving down a city street, and there was a lady in a car in front of me singing a Weird Al song at the top of her lungs. Then I turned right, and suddenly instead of driving a car down a street, I was pushing a shopping cart down the aisle at Wal-mart. It was in the seasonal aisle and there were backpacks on the left. Anyway, the song in my head was/is "Wanna B Ur Lovr," from the album, Poodle Hat. It's a style parody of Prince. It's full of not-so-subtle innuendo, all very silly. It's definitely one we don't let the kids listen to, at least not until they're older. We can't have them thinking that people go around asking, "do you mind if I chew on your butt?" There's also a line about her eyes being bluer than the water in his toilet. Be still my heart!