I'm heading to London this weekend.  Ethan and I have tickets to see Thomas the Tank Engine, a real train, that takes you for a ride.  He has no clue what Thomas is, but I'm going with my sister and her two kids which will be fun.  I already have a list a page long of things I have to bring for Ethan.

Stroller, booster seat, play pen, diapers, food, clothes, toys, all his lotions and potions, sippy cups, formula...oi veh.  I need a cube van just to get him there.  Not to mention I'll have three car seats in my car for all the kiddies.  I may just die before I ever see Thomas.

It's amazing how priorities change.  I'm making lists so I don't for get beloved Pablo and soothers, and figuring out how to fit 2 adults, 3 kids with car seats, strollers, beds, clothes and partridge in a minivan.  Not so long ago it was how to fit 6 drunk skunks in a 2 door Jimmy without anyone yuking or getting pulled over.  My cupboards have been cleared of wine glasses to make room for bottles and sippy cups.

I wouldn't change it for the world.

Work stinks.  Literally.  Something honks like ass, well it's more of a rubber smell and it's gross.  We all got new cheapass foam mouse pads, it could be the lot of them ganging up on us with toxic fumes.  It could also be the lunch pail of a guy that has a cubical outside my real office who brought one of those small bar fridges to work and plugged it in under his desk.  Maybe the wires are slowly melting because the space bar plugged into the extension cord plugged into the 2 outlet to six outlet box just can't take it anymore and is about to go postal and burn us all.

Then again, it's probably just the mouse pads.

I see the moon and the moon sees me, God bless the moon and God bless me - goodnight y'all.