Lazy, With A Side Of Ice Cream

If you are going to have bad news it is a good idea to have ice cream in your house.  Ice cream, with its creamy, smooth, and cold deliciousness, can soothe a sad heart very nicely, in my experience.  Might I suggest Stewart's Crumbs Along the Mohawk, made into a sundae with sunflower seeds, banana, and Hershey's Syrup?  In the words of Rachel Rae: it's wicked good.
And when was the cap on the Hershey's Syrup revolutionized?  It now has a flip cap, like Colgate toothpaste, with no extra clear plastic lid that always got smeared with chocolate.  Brilliant!  Advances are being made every day, and this proves it.
Yesterday when I was filled with nervous energy because I thought Emma might really be coming home this week, I was very busy around the house.  I scrubbed our hardwood floors Cinderella Style with Murphy's Oil Soap (my favorite cleaner for floors)...you would not believe what a pain it is to get little drops of milk off of the floor once they have dried on.  Not fun.  But today they sparkle and shine and I feel accomplished.  I also cleaned our our TV armoire, which had degenerated into a pile of mismatched CDs and DVDs, their cases strewn about in a mound of disarray that threatened to topple over at any minute.  It took awhile but I no longer have to hold my breath when I open the doors, hoping that nothing falls onto Harry's head.  I worked hard for most of the day, and the distraction was good.
Today, however, I have done nothing.  Except the ice cream sundae, which was a bit of an accomplishment.  I have rotated through the house, sitting in the sunny spots and trying to stay warm.  I have had tea.  I spent two hours reading with Harrison...his love for books grows by the hour and he was not happy until we'd read each one twice.  We also played cars for a very long time, and then we took turns rolling Thomas the Tank Engine down a pillow onto the floor, giggling as he crashed.  It was a normal day, devoid of any bad news, and it felt really good.
 And as a final measure to make myself feel better, I watched the first half of Dr. Phil during Harry's nap.  If you ever need to feel vastly better about your life or situation, watch Dr. Phil.  Oh my.  My life is not out of control at all, in fact we're doing just fine.  This latest bit of nonsense about travel?  It's just a blip in the grand scheme of things.  Emma will be home very soon, and we will have sleepless nights, clothes that perpetually have some sort of baby stain on them, a toddler who feels slightly displaced, a severe lack of time alone, and more Cheerios throughout the house than the dogs can eat.  But we'll be happy, and we'll not have any need to visit Dr. Phil.  Ever.  Thank God.