Yesterday...
I wore two shirts, and I probably should have worn five.  My perfume smelled a little funky, because it was not perfume at all.  I put the laundry away and swiffered the floor.  The dishes found their places, and are already dirty again.  
I drank 56 ounces of water, and was still thirsty.  I got a frosty-chino because I could.  We went to the bank, and I told the teller to take his time.  
I got my morning typing done and let out my brother's dog, Daisy.  
I took the baby to my mom's house and she spit up over all of us- yes, Gram gram, Papa, Momma, and Daddy even I think!  And big sister Harley licked it up.
I missed my baby, because I didn't put her to sleep.  How pathetic am I?  I worked last night, fed the baby, laid her down and let daddy take over.  She was an angel, right to sleep.  Then I went to bed and felt awful, I didn't put her to sleep!  I missed it, even though putting her down makes me crazy, which makes me sound like a lunatic.  There is something about putting a paci back in her mouth 100 times...
And I did so much more yesterday, but I just can't remember.  Because really, my days are filled with loving on a little punk, feeding her, changing her, burping her, and snuggling her.  And even more really, I forget the rest of the day when she's in my arms.
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