Is it Monday already?
Our weekend was strangely packed, largely due to Baby J's inability to take decent naps on the weekends, even when we keep him on his regular schedule and everything. This time we ended up driving to Summerville on Saturday afternoon, just to keep him asleep once he fell asleep (FINALLY) in the car. On Sunday I sat in the driveway with the car running after driving around the neighborhood multiple times after church because he fell asleep again and needed a nap so badly I was willing to do just about anything to keep him asleep. Eventually, we parked the car, left the doors open, and ate dinner on the porch while he slept. Like I said, we were pretty desperate.
Saturday morning I went to a women's conference for church, the theme of which was "temples." We learned some interesting tidbits and had some (it turns out) VERY raw chicken for lunch. Luckily we caught the offending pieces in time, but it was a shock to unroll our suspicious-looking chicken and see how underdone it really was. I was sure everyone was going to get food poisoning, making me very happy I wasn't in charge of the food (accidentally poisoning one congregation was enough for me, thank you! Once upon a time, I served a questionable taco meat, black beans, and rice dish to 70 people at a church function, sickening everyone but me and putting one missionary in the hospital--he recovered, thankfully. It was dark day. I have since espoused the virtues of bringing vegetarian dishes not involving mayonnaise whenever possible to church functions.
Saturday and Sunday afternoons, when I wasn't casting sleeping spells, I worked on my office/library/craft/sewing room. I kind can't believe I just typed that last part. Since when do I have any need for a craft/sewing room? Since I had a child and got all domestic, I guess. Suddenly I'm wanting to make advent calendars and activity books and Christmas stockings and just as suddenly I'm wanting to store food in large quantities and label everything and hang pictures and *gasp* sort through my books and see what I really need. I KNOW! What's gotten into me?! If I ever mention anything about pegboard or stencils, I want someone to stage an intervention!