Ian and I share a birthday week. My official birthday is the 14th; his is the 16th. I fully endorse the “Birthday Week” philosophy–though it’s not as much fun sharing the week, so I do my best to step out of his way on his actual birthday. Otherwise, it’s all about me.
This weekend turned out to be pretty awesome. By noon on Saturday, all evidence of the Blizzard had melted away. We took the boys to Oaklawn to watch the horses. Rader can pick a horse, let me tell you. I may take him with me every time. Actually, this morning he said “Hey Mom, can we go to the races Friday? I wanna win some money.”
Um. No. You have school. But I’ll let you pick the horses that morning before you leave and I’ll go to the races for you…
Mother of the year.
Yesterday it was 65 degrees. We finally figured out what was wrong with the vacuum (and by “we” I mean, Fishdog) and I went to town yesterday afternoon. Man, the animals have been shedding like crazy! I must’ve vacuumed up enough hair to knit an afghan. A big afghan. And matching socks. I’m almost afraid to head downstairs with the vacuum. We might blow it up. Do you think Dyson guarantees their vacuums if they explode?
So, what’s up for this week? And more importantly, what are you getting me for my birthday?