Today was Silas's birthday. I had to work one of those day-eating shifts, 8:30 to 5:30, that means that I leave the house at 7:30 and don't get back until 6:30. All in all, I got to spend about two hours with my little man before he rubbed his eyes and I whisked him into bed to see if he'd go down without a fight. He rolled over, hummed to himself a little, and was out like a light.
Working full time really bites some days.
Once I was sure he was fully out, I tiptoed around his room and gathered up all his clothes to do a load of laundry. I went down the basement full of the cheerful optimism that comes with the knowledge that I'm going to accomplish something for a change. I put the hamper down in front of the washing machine and as I straightened up something horrifying with too many legs ran across the wall.
I froze. "What was that?" I thought wildly. "I don't know," I immediately rejoined, "but clearly we should be wearing shoes." Cue the ever-dignified scene of a grown woman fleeing the basement for her life.
I suspect that creepy-crawlies are the natural inhabitants of damp basements everywhere, but let me just say GAAAAAAAAAH!
I put on shoes, I went back downstairs, I put the load in, and I only hesitated a little when something of similar build to the first hell-creature ran out from under the quilt I picked up off the floor. Laundry is happening. Somehow or other I will convince myself to go back downstairs to transfer it to the dryer.
First, however, I'm going to put a chicken in the crockpot and try to enjoy the idea of buying a chicken on sale to cook and freeze for future meals, like a proper thrifty housewife. I'm terrible at this kind of foresight. I'm terrible at housewifery in general. But I'm trying today. Effort is being made.
Another thing I'm terrible at - time management. It's after 10 and there's a hundred other things I was going to blog about, but I have a load to switch over and a chicken to cook and a test-knit to work on.