Brain dump

Tonight, all four of my kids went to bed at the same time.

Yes, you read that correctly.  And yes, it is a miracle.

As Fr. John had a late night house blessing to get to, I got to clean the kitchen in utter peace and quiet.  If you eliminate the cleaning part, it was like a little slice of heaven.  In the quiet, my mind wandered in a completely random flight pattern.

For instance, I was thinking about an article I stumbled across some time ago, in which the author was describing her quick and easy 10 minute night-time beauty ritual.  Seriously?  Ten minutes?  My nighttime beauty ritual consists of asking my husband if he still thinks I'm pretty, then passing out and drooling on my pillow.  15 seconds, tops.

Also on my mind was the movie Frozen.  I love that movie.  I have the song "Let it Go" on my phone, and am made fun of by other adult members of my home (*cough Fr. John cough*) for listening to it repeatedly.  What can I say?  It's a great song.  Catchy lyrics. The only thing I don't like about that part in the movie is that when Elsa "lets it go" she transforms her dress into this icy blue, skin-tight concoction with a thigh-high slit in the front and a ten foot train in the back.  I don't know about anybody else, but if I was building my own ice castle in the mountains, away from everybody and relishing the solitude, I'd transform my clothes into a pair of sweat pants a tank top.  To be fair, I'd also use my magic to create an unending cup of Dr. Pepper in one hand, and a giant bowl of cookie dough in the other.  Or maybe chocolate pudding.  Or both.  Yes, let's go with both. 

Speaking of movies, one of my all time favorites has to be Last of the Mohicans.  Once at the grocery store, Fr. John and I had to split up for some reason.  He walked away, and called over his shoulder, "I'll find you."  I wanted to grab onto him and cry, "No!  Say it like Daniel Day-Lewis!  'I will find you.  No matter how long it takes, no matter how far...I will find you!'"  Unfortunately, I chickened out.  My husband's tolerance for my shenanigans--while seemingly infinite--does have it's bounds, and I suspect this may have crossed over into his grey area.  Also, as he didn't watch this movie and sigh nearly as much as I did as a teenager, he may not have understood the reference anyway.

It's now 9 pm, and as my day began at 6:15 this morning in a flurry of baby barf and an exploding diaper, I think I'll end it now.  Trying to go to bed is the quickest way to wake up my infant son, so I figure if he gets it out of his system now, I may not have to get up with him again until 1 or 2.

Good night Wesley, sleep tight.  I'll most likely kill you in the morning.  (Name that movie!)

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