Sunday Mutterings

The good news is that I slept until almost 9 am this morning. Practically unheard of around here. The bad news is that it's 11:40 am and I feel more tired now than I would've had I woken up at an earlier time.

Why is that? I'm the same way with naps; I enjoy the actual nap part, but wake up groggier and spacier than before.

Perhaps I just don't need too much extra sleep?

My 8 year old alarm clock, the one that coincidentally NEVER runs out of batteries, wasn't here this morning to perform it's duties.

My alarm clock spent the night across the street at her friend's house. I quite enjoyed giving the alarm clock the morning off; she works so hard, rising with the sun morning after morning. Without my special helper, I still woke up at a decent time, a little before 7, but since my alarm clock didn't find herself inside my bed, cold feet pressed against my leg, listening to The Weather Channel at full blast and complaining about not being able to sleep anymore on account of her grumbling, hungry, STARVING stomach, I turned over and fell back to sleep.

It was nice. I must admit.

But the lethargy that comes after a night of too much sleep isn't exactly welcomed.

I just brewed myself a cup of coffee; hopefully come caffeine will give me a boost. However, I just dumped coffee down the front of my white shirt. I don't suppose that'll do me much good in the boost department.

A boost for what? Who knows? It's not like we have any plans for the day. We initially planned to redeem Caroline's second freebie Krispy Kreme Valentine this morning, but she spent the night with a friend instead. As it turns out, they came here for breakfast, so I suppose we could have gone to Krispy Kreme, but I was still in my jammies when they came home around 9:15.

I made them pancakes, instead.

Pancakes with chocolate chips, strawberries, powdered sugar AND maple syrup. We're I'm a maple syrup purist, but Bailey likes powdered sugar AND syrup so I indulged them this one time.
To me, pancakes, waffles and french toast serve merely as the vehicle for the maple syrup. Fruit flavored syrup is of the devil. As are healthy yogurt/fruit toppings and those ridiculous IHOP rooty-tooty-fruity pancake toppings.

Like I said, I'm a purist.

I like real maple syrup; Caroline does not. She much prefers maple flavored high fructose corn syrup. Someday she'll learn the error of her ways.
Until then, I'll oblige the whims of her immature palate.

Blah, this really is going to be an uneventful day.
Yesterday was uneventful, as well. Except for the gaggle of grumpy girls I had congregating in my house yesterday afternoon. They were all grumpy, which made me grumpy. Before I nearly lost my cool, I suggested they play outside and miracle of miracles, they did. And they actually had fun. The best part is that they didn't bother me for two whole hours. Except for when they wanted me to judge them in their scooter-ice skating (?) routine. I told them I did not want to judge anyone because I'm not objective and they pretty much demanded that I judge objectively and without any concern for feelings. They were on the verge of making score card signs for me to hold up when I finally them no. Situations like that never end well and I certainly didn't want to be in the middle of it.

Instead, I watched them, clapped for their routines and went back inside the warm house.

As you can see, we take the term "Lazy Weekend" quite seriously. If Craig were here, I would have made a trip to the gym for my Saturday morning beating, but he's not. Of all the things I'll miss the most while he's gone (beside Craig himself) is my inability to make it to an early Saturday morning exercise class. Caroline wakes early enough, but she's not a fan of the kid's zone at my gym. She'll see it enough during the summer, when I do not intend to compromise any of my gym time. I can't seem to shake the feeling of guilt that surrounds her future torture in the kid's zone this summer, so for now I'm sacrificing one of my favorite things.

But, the worst part is that her memory is short and my measely sacrifice won't mean a single thing to her when I drag her to the gym in the summer. She'll still fuss.
When do kids outgrow their overwhelming self centeredness?

I wish I knew the answer, but I'm 33 and I've yet to outgrow it myself.