So long.

I've been trying to write a post all week, about what a great weekend I had last weekend. How we had dinner with Heidi and her new man, and turns out he's pretty fucking good. How Lance took the kids Saturday which allowed me to go to the mall by myself and actually purchase some garments that look half-way decent on me. How Sunday night we had a impromptu dinner party with some friends, friends who are getting married this weekend. How we are going to San Diego this weekend, for the aforementioned wedding, and how we are leaving the kids with grandma.

But it's been busy, and now it's Thursday night, tomorrow's going to be crazy, and the kids are clamoring for dinner, so. So that's it, that's what's going on.

I'll leave you with this little tidbit from the pieceofwork household:

Scene: 4:30pm. Lance has come home early from work so I can get my nails done before we leave for the wedding tomorrow.

Vivian: Daddy! Daddy! I want to paink*!

Isaac: HI DADDY!!

Me: Hey, babe.

Lance (on the phone): looks up, big smile, holds up a finger in the universal "just a second" sign.

Isaac: I want to paink!

Vivian: No! NO! I want to paink! Mommy! I want to paink!

Isaac: Only Isaac can paint, Vivi. You will get your fingers messy.

Me: Hold on. Everyone's going to paint. You guys sit down at the table, I'll get the paints.

Lance: on the phone.

Isaac: Where's my paink brush? Oh, there it is. Thank you, Mommy! I love to paink with the painks we got at the store called Sav on.

Vivian: Paink! Paink! Paink!

Me: where is the other paintbrush? (Rummaging around the craft/dinner table) Isaac, where is the paintbrush? Is it in here? Did you put it in your room?

Vivian: Paink! Paink!

Lance: Hey sweetie.

Vivian: Paink! Paink! Daddy paink!

Lance: What did you do today?

Isaac: I want to paink! You can't paink, Vivi, Mommy can't find the brush.

Me (calling from the bedroom where I am searching for the paintbrush)**: Everyone's painting, Isaac. Be nice to your sister!

Vivian: MOMMY! Mommy! I want to paink!

Lance (entering our bedroom, where I am now rummaging for the paintbrush): what are you doing?

Me: Looking for the paint brush!

Lance: Paint brush? What do you need that for?

Me: Do you even LIVE here?


*This is the way both my children say paint. I don't know why.

** How is it possible that I have only two paintbrushes in the entire house? How?