Gratitude Friday...

Can we all just agree here and start a grass roots letter writing campaign to our Congressman and Senator?  Let's remember our founding fathers' and all they stood for.  Let's do them proud in this endeavor.  Join forces and voices and letters making it impossible for us to be ignored.

The time has come.

DAYLIGHT SAVINGS MUCH END.

Can I get an AMEN?

So tonight, because truthfully, I'm writing this on Thursday night and scheduling it for Friday, I did a resetting cleansing ritual.  

Chocolate Milkshake.

Long Walk.

The Popcast:  Episode 132

(Where they assigned Lost characters to presidential candidates)  (Sweet heavens, I needed those laughs.)

And finally, rewatching the single best hour of television ever made...

The West Wing, Game On.

If you have not seen it, we can no longer be friends.  I'm gonna need you to go watch it.  Now.  Then return to confirm your viewing and I will return you to your proper place as "Member of My Life."

You're welcome.

Also, can we talk about Lily Tomlin in The West Wing?  Because, AWESOME.

Now listen, I get that after a week spent dealing with Rhys crying every five minutes OVER I HAVE NO IDEA and Aubrey Kate sitting CATATONIC on the couch too tired to even play, I should be doing something holy like lighting candles and reading C.S. Lewis.

But I opted for podcasts on pop culture and television from 1999.  

I am simply THAT level of holy.

Be impressed.

Almost as impressive is Rhys' "Grumpy Face."  Which is a total lie.  His real grumpy face is significantly grumpier.  What with the crying.

And not to be out done, this is Aubrey Kate LETTING me take a picture of her blue dress so I could possibly buy her some leggings that match since the one's I bought to go with the dress last spring no longer fit.  

She's so pretty.

And this is today.  Half price milkshake day at Sonic to celebrate Saint Patrick's Day.  On which neither of my children agreed to wear green.  But we still need to celebrate our Irish heritage.  Although I haven't worked my way back through Ancestry.com yet to find our actual Irish kin.  However, we feel certain one of them somewhere along the line came over here fleeing the Potato Famine.

So clearly, milkshakes.

They're kinda cute, aren't they?  Strangely, they look a whole lot alike in that photo.  You know, besides the blonde, fair-skinned, blue-eyed thing.  

Mostly, this week, I am grateful it's over.  We survived.  Despite the yelling and crying and staring blankly off into space, we survived.  Some weeks are JUST THAT.  And that's okay.  Not all the days of all the weeks in all the years need to be blissful and memory worthy.  Some simply need to BE and well, this was one of those.  

Maybe, if I am actually a little Irish somewhere, I'll be lucky enough that the kids only remember the milkshakes.  And that I loved them SO HARD.  Even though they were overtired and grumpy and not all that much fun.

If you need a reset, I recommend my formula.  It's never failed me yet.  Go in peace, friend, and DRINK THE MILKSHAKE.