So What Every Day

So what if I don't do So What Wednesday anymore. Every day is So What around here. . .

So what if I hate when people text the same text like, three times. Dude. I got it. I'll write you back. When I see it, when I can or when I want to. Which isn't now. I've got my hands full [of good things], or I am finally getting to sleep for the first time in weeks. Chill.

So what if I've been napping. Every day. With my kiddos. So what if my house is a wreck- I'm snugglin'.

Speaking of a mess. So what if earlier I saw an empty goldfish bag on the floor. And stepped right over it. I said SO WHAT.

So what if I'm fairly certain I'm going to get pink eye. When your super-sick kiddo has some serious, serious [did I say serious] diapers, it gets everywhere. Ugh. Pink eye. Really. 

So what if K is doing a juice thing this week so I stocked up on lasagne and zitti. PASTA FOREVER!

So what if J's dance moves are incredible. Like, watch out world, hilarious. He gets it from his mama.

So what if when my kids barfed- all week- I couldn't clean it up. Thank you, Lord above that K was home. 

So what if I forgot to put our sheets and comforter in the dryer before our date last night. When we got home we slept on a pile of quilts. Loved it.

So what if I just had to say, "Don't run with your knife, sweetie." It's plastic, freak out one time.

So what if in preparation for our beach trip I am self-tanning it all the way to the top. And, by to the top, I mean to the top of the "I'd rather be orange than pale" totem pole.

So what, so what. I'm doing what it takes to survive around here. And that means I'm stepping over empty goldfish bags when we are in the middle of an intense game of hide and seek. And I'm forgetting about the laundry because I'm lysol-ing the whole house in prep for our babysitter, so we can gift ourselves an overdue date night. And yes, I'm ignoring your texts for a few hours while I self tan get pink eye because my babies are sick. Sweet, sweet babies. 

So What.

Until Next Time,
The Guff