When you have a toddler, rain is the worst. thing. ever.
If it's sunny out, I can give MJ a bag of giant chalk sticks and she will happily scribble on the back patio for at least thirty blissful, quiet, minutes while I do all the glamorous and sexy things I enjoy doing, like unloading the dishwasher or staring into the freezer wondering what I'm going to make for dinner.
But it's raining.
We've already built sixteen different block castles and then sent them crashing to the floor, gotten dressed, eaten two delicious snacks of bananas and goldfish crackers, changed clothes when we realized we weren't going to make it to church this morning due to Alex's desperate need for a nap, painted with watercolors, and watched two episodes of Curious George (not back-to-back, good Heavens!).
Usually, Mike is pretty good at entertaining MJ while I clean, fold laundry, etc. but he's tired this morning. He couldn't sleep last night, and stayed up pretty late watching TV, and in a sweet effort to let me sleep in, got up with MJ when she randomly woke up at six. Now he's crashed out on the couch.
MJ knows it's raining and that Daddy is not in his usual rough-and-tumble mood, and is expressing her annoyance by attempting to color on anything that's not paper, climbing up the front of the bookcase, and jumping on the couch.
Must. get. out. of. here.
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