- the Man is home
- the Y chromosomes are asleep
- the Grandmere has arrived
- Mary Jr is sleeping over
- the scarlet fever has joined forces with irked eczema, egged on by a Mango Tango drink that I gave the child who, scratching uncontrollably post-mango, was fed Benadryl by his mother while secretly celebrating because last night his feet spent way too much time in the vicinity of my solar plexus and tonight he'll be in a drugged stupor
- the Toddles is running 102F
- we have new towels (first ones in ten years!)
- the Toddles vomited all over most of them
- I got an ear pierced. Again.
Tomorrow, I will:
make bread, bake chocolate-chocolate chip cupcakes, bake a leek and fig chicken dish, construct version three of a rice dish I'm working on, put together mishloash manot bags (minus chocolate-chocolate chip cupcakes), take the Eldest to school (8.30am), visit a school (9am), go back to the doctor who found a lump two weeks ago at my checkup (see me freak - whoopdefreakingdo, I'm a nursing mum. Lumps abound. 10.30), fill the urn, make a tofu tikka masala dish that I swooned over last week (no recipe available - just get one of those Arora indian spice mixes and replace the chicken with tofu, and toss in the cauliflower and baby bok choy, sliced up - ahhh - and add a few kaffir lime leaves for extra ahhhhh), roast spiced sweet potatoes, make pasta and hot dogs for Sat dinner, and find something to feed everybody for lunch. Oh yes, and meet up with my dear R at 3pm, wash vomitous towels/clothes/poopy diapers and figure out Purim costumes!
The Eldest, I suspect, will be Jack from the Magic Treehouse books (although he looks ready to throw that over to be whatever Sam is, sigh), the Toddles will be whatever the Eldest was last year, and the Man has offered to be a treehouse. While reading the Megilla - including, I should hope, doing the voices, yes? Yes.
Easy peasy. And if not, on the seventh day, we shall rest. Possibly by pitching headfirst onto the bed or any available surface.