Friday Fabulous Fuhgetaboutit

I'm so wicked tired I don't know what to do with myself. My feet are killing me from wearing my fabulous red boots yesterday, my hammies are killing me from doing my fabulous workouts this week, and my head is throbbing from drinking to much fabulous caffeine. So what I have for you, fabulous readers, is my week in review. Once it's reviewed, I'm gonna just fuhgetaboutit and veg out in front of the TV watching the opening ceremonies for the Olympics. I suggest you do the same.

I was actally nominated for a blog award! Yes. Me. I'm with you: Wha'? Who's doin' what to who? Hey, I dunno either, but I'm so excited you can't believe it. So go over to One Woman's World and nominate your favorites.

This is why I hate math. Seriously. Who puts graphs in a blog? Even if it's for data's sake? Ouch.

Munchkin and I took a walk this week and as she is talking she notices something and stops. She is very quiet for about a second and then yells, "HELLO!" She turns to me and calmly says, "Mom, I think the sky is copying me."

I picked up Shannon's son from school this week and between asking me for the Burger King video game and wiping his nose with a Kleenex he slips in, "You have good hair." At first I thought I was hearing things so I asked him to repeat what he said. "You have good hair. Is it OK if I play with the video game?"

Munchkin acknowledged me as a mother. I had just acquiesced and allowed her to play in the bathtub with her plastic horses. I ran the water, got the horses, turned on the heating lamp, and put a towel out. I made sure the water was just the right temp for her. She gets in, smiles big, and says, "I love you mom. You do everything for us. Thanks."

I cut out a bajillion 9x9 squares for three different quilts this week. I still have to go back to the store to get some extra fabric. I really hope they aren't out of the one I need.

My son and Munchkin are currently composing a song on the piano entitled Who Loves You? The lyrics are Who loves you? Who loves you?
Mommy does. Mommy does.

Frankly, I'm too tired to type anymore. Hasta la pasta as my brother used to say...I'll be more entertaining tomorrow (one would hope--there's only one way to go from here).