* Much to my surprise, I have a job interview on Thursday. It would be telecommuting, 20 hours a week (so I could keep my current job as well), evaluating Internet search results. At a decent rate of pay, even. And apparently while I would have to work four hours every day during the week, it doesn't matter when I do them, so while I would want to increase K's daycare hours, I would still be able to work if she couldn't go. It would even be a job I could keep no matter where we live. Needless to say, I would really like this interview to go well.
* It never ceases to amaze me the things people don't warn you about when you become a parent. Sure, I heard about the lack of sleep, explosive poopy diapers and temper tantrums. I was warned that three is a hard age (and so far, they were soooo right).
But nobody ever warned me that I might spend half an hour this evening when I was supposed to be finishing preparing dinner searching the house for a missing tub of margarine. Since I'm pretty sure it didn't grow chubby little plastic legs like some sort of Doctor Who alien and jump out of the fridge so it could hop a midnight train and see the world, I'm inclined to blame the three-year-old. She hasn't exhibited any suspicious greasiness, but I can't think of anyone else living here who might want to take margarine on walkabout.
We never did find it. I have a feeling that wherever it does turn up, it's going to be ugly.
* It never ceases to amaze me the things people don't warn you about when you become a parent. Sure, I heard about the lack of sleep, explosive poopy diapers and temper tantrums. I was warned that three is a hard age (and so far, they were soooo right).
But nobody ever warned me that I might spend half an hour this evening when I was supposed to be finishing preparing dinner searching the house for a missing tub of margarine. Since I'm pretty sure it didn't grow chubby little plastic legs like some sort of Doctor Who alien and jump out of the fridge so it could hop a midnight train and see the world, I'm inclined to blame the three-year-old. She hasn't exhibited any suspicious greasiness, but I can't think of anyone else living here who might want to take margarine on walkabout.
We never did find it. I have a feeling that wherever it does turn up, it's going to be ugly.