I know what you are thinking… you are all, WHAT THE HAIL has happened to my dear, sweet, friend Robin who used to only write about hilarious things her children said and poop?? WHO is this woman who is now writing about yoga and gardening??? When is she going to get BACK in the bed and watch more Netflix so I can feel better about myself?
Well– just so you don’t worry about me too much– I watched an entire season of The Real World on Hulu this week. First I was stuck at home because Sadie was sick. I wasn’t feeling very good on Friday and was trying to show my mother how to use our new thermometer on Sadie, but she wouldn’t stand still. She knew if she was running a fever then she had to take medicine, so I took my own temp just to show Shuggie how it worked and realized I was running fever. #winning
I wasn’t sad about this at all– I got back in the bed and finished up The Real World while Sadie slept curled up next to me.
In other news Aubrey would like for me to announce to the world that she is “getting to that age that she doesn’t want me to talk about her or take her pictures anymore.” This happened after I posted a picture of her (with her permission) on Instagram then she went to school and people said something to her about it. I’d like to know who lets their second grader get on Instagram?? Especially my Instagram, seeing as how my target audience is NOT eight-year-olds.
Regardless, I will respect her requests because she is my daughter and I love her and want her to feel like she has privacy. It would HELP if people didn’t talk to her about what I write but I can’t control that, so– just know that I realize I have three children, but Sadie is the only one wanting to strike a pose these days. AND if I can figure out how to ban anyone under eighteen from my Instagram feed I’m totes going to do it.
In other news, Zebulicious was working on our vegetable garden this weekend as I caught up with The Real World: Virgin Islands. He planted tomatoes and cucumbers, rattlesnake beans, and a bunch of other stuff. As you may or may not know, our dog, Moses (aka the only dog I’ve ever liked) can occasionally be a pain in the ass. I don’t particualarly care when he tears stuff up because no one has broken into our cars since we got him. In fact, the UPS man and pizza delivery peeps won’t even step into our driveway because he goes nuts when he sees them. Which makes me laugh because if they walked up to them he would probably just lay down and roll over for them to scratch his belly but his bark is pretty ferocious and I LOVE it. (I say probably, but MAYHAPS he would rip your head off. I wouldn’t risk it if I were a creepy type person.) Zeb and I both travel a lot and I like having Moses outside to scare the crap out of anyone who might want to step on my property.
At any rate, this morning, Zebulicious went outside and came back in cracking up.
Zeb: Moses tried to plant tomatoes last night.
Zeb: The dang dog tried to plant tomatoes. Come look.
So I did. Y’all!! Bless his sweet little baby head. That dog dug a big ole hole, drug the tomato plants that Zeb hadn’t planted yet, into the hole, the WRAPPED landscaping fabric around it!! I can just hear his little doggy thoughts:
My Daddy is gonna be so proud of me! Imma do it just like he did then he is gonna be so happy!! He’s gonna pet me and play with me!
Did I just refer to Zebulicious as Moses’ “Daddy”? Yup.
Did I just write actual DIALOG for my dog as if he were speaking????? Again, yes. Yes, I did.
I’d tell you what in the world has happened to me but I caught myself riding my bike with a yoga mat strapped to my back the other day, right before I went to the health food store to buy a case of Kombucha, so I can’t say that I rightly know.
What have you been up to??