Feeling pretty accomplished

Today got off to a rocky start. AKA everyone and her sister thought I shouldn't be allowed to sleep in. I even had a shouting match with God to let Him know that I needed to sleep in. I didn't exactly sleep, but I wasn't awake either, so I'm not sure who won.

However, I got up, checked the boards, fixed a broken thread, and got more of my ducks in a row. Yay me. Then, I wrote a long, inspiring email to a friend who's selling her house with all the things I'm learning about selling mine. Sadly, she's just selling the land, not the house.

Because I was being such an inspirational friend, I decided to practice what I'd preached, and started cleaning my own pit. I spent THREE hours on one room. It's so purtyful, though. I even steam cleaned the couch. Yes, I am sick. Very sick. Of the mess! Actually, I did the couch because the little lady dumped strawberry syrup all over it while I was in the shower.

To get the troops to cooperate, I put the baby down for a nap and told my older daughter that if she helped me, we'd have family time tonight and go for a bike ride to McDonald's. Well, she held up her end of the bargain. She even washed windows for me. They're streaky, but she's so proud-she went on and on about how happy Daddy was going to be to see what a good job we did. The second he arrived home, she pounced on him to show off what we'd done.

After dinner, as promised, we took the kiddos for a bike ride to McDonald's. About a 1/4 of the way there, I wanted to die. Note to anyone dumb enough to bribe their kids: make sure it's not an activity that'll kill you. The first bike ride of the season should not be several miles long and forcing you to scale The Hill of Doom.

When we got 1/3 of the way there (remember, we still have to ride back), That Man offered for us to just ride to the nearby gas station and get a treat there. But see, I promised them ice cream at McDonald's. Maybe that doesn't sound like a big deal to anyone else, but having lived a lot of my life with broken promises, I just can't do that to my kids unless I have no other option. I decided to tough it out. We stopped by my FIL's house (halfway to McDonald's) for a visit, and arrived at McDonald's. I think I lost the feeling in my butt around that time.

The fortunate thing about our timing is that they're closing this McDonald's May 1st for renovations, so if I'd told them that we'd do it another time, they'd have been really disappointed. We got our ice cream, and the kiddos gobbled it up. For the ride back, That Man took pity on me and put the baby's trailer on his bike. Which already had B's bike attached to it.

This is what I hate about being married to a jock. For those of you who don't know, he used to play soccer at a pro level. He can lay around on his butt for months and then get out there and do something, and you'd never know he'd been laying around on his butt. I'm dying, and he's like, I'll tow both kiddos and sets of equipment. Worse, he was racing circles around me. You could tell he was dying at how slow I was going. He had to keep waiting for me to catch up.

I got most of the way up The Hill of Doom and then had to walk the rest of it. But I did more than I thought I could, so I'm still proud of myself. And even though he makes me sick, I'm pretty glad I married a guy who is in good enough shape to carry the load.

When I got home, I felt pretty good. Okay, I felt like I was going to die. My legs hurt. My butt hurts. My lower back hurts from the cleaning I did earlier. My hands hurt from the little squeezy thing on the steam cleaner. But let me tell you! I have a spotless room in my house. AND I rode SEVEN miles! Wahoo Me!!

Now, I'm off to take a bath and pray that my CPs get back to me with their thoughts on the proposal due TOMORROW!!!