“I’m going to throw in a load of laundry real quick.”
“Can you check his diaper real quick?”
“Can you do me a really quick favor?”
“I just need to get ready real quick.”
It’s not proper English, but it’s become a staple in my vocabulary.
I don’t know if I said “real quick” (or similar variations) as frequently in my pre-triplets days, but I say it almost constantly now.
When asking for help, it’s become almost an apology or at least an assurance that the favor isn’t something terribly taxing.
“I don’t want to bother you,” in other words.
When I use it to define my own tasks, it’s almost always an apology for needing to do one thing while one/two/three other things wait. It’s also an assurance that I’ll be ready to move onto my next
chore great adventure lickity split.
I need to slow down. I know I do. I’ve needed to slow down since the day Toby, Eleanor and Callista came home from NICU, but I just can’t seem to do it. Well, either I can’t, or everything else won’t exactly let me.
On one hand, being constantly in motion isn’t such a bad thing. On the other, it’s exhausting. One finger of that other hand – the index finger that shows No. 1 – tells me that, more than being exhausting, it’s stretching. I am constantly working to avoid being stretched too thin, especially where my kids are concerned. I hope I have never said, “Let me read this book real quick,” or “I just need to give E/T/C a hug real quick.”
I’m quite guilty of untangling a clinger when I need to cook dinner to appease the hunger that’s causing said clinginess (x3 in most cases, though it’s sometimes clingy, fussy and OMG THE WORLD IS ENDING) , but I’ve had to learn to prioritize and accept that leaving them behind “real quick” is sometimes what they need more than a cuddle that would only staunch the wound. For the greater good, as Gindelwald said.
Or is it? Welcome to my brain battle.
Those Mizunos ended up being medieval torture devices, so I returned them & got myself a pair of a Brooks. C25K run tonight with a local group. Two thumbs up!
Dragon or dinosaur? If it's a dinosaur, what kind? Dr. Ross Geller would know. Or maybe Charlie Weasley.
My lap is a reading nook. My chin is a footrest. Love is crazy.
Rapture! (Or bath time.)
I hit the flat greenway for my new shoes' inaugural 2 miles. My first mile was 9:57!
Happy canker work season, Charlotte.
I ran somewhere new today - the wicked hilly trails at Reedy Creek. Well, I "ran." The hills kicked my butt!
Happy group play without arguments or territory invasion - lasted approx. 6 minutes. #triplets
My body goals for 6 months of pregnancy & 2.5 years of #breastfeeding (when my 1st weaned) were focused on providing for my #triplets. Eating enough wasn't easy, so I didn't start scaling back or exercising until they were close to 2.5 years old. A year l
"I just want a leeeetle tiiiiiny piece of toast. Like this." The 3 y/o appetite is requesting a crumb.
OH, YEAH. You want summa dis? It's Alton Brown's Brussels sprouts wit pecans & cranberries. We'll see if Callista sings her #brusselsfroutsallday song. I know I am!
A penny per ride is a steal, but x3 means spending a long time hanging out in front of Harris Teeter. Good news, @baballance, ETC can now spell H-A-R-R-Y!
Yes, it's a gym selfie. Why? Because I'm celebrating! We started our 7-day trial at the Y today. ETC had a great time, & I ... Did things. 1.5 mi (half-assed, waiting for a problem with ETC) on the treadmill at the end of Gilmore Girls, then I investigate
Boom. 2 miles. Just me, my taser/flashlight, & the night/springtime creatures.
The greenway is getting GREEN! Yay, Spring!
Wishes! ✨ #tripletmom
It's a gloomy, rainy day outside, but it's bright & cheerful in the rec center!
I asked ETC to stop chasing each other & wait by the door so no one got hurt & we could FINALLY leave the house. This was how they interpreted my direction. Goofballs.
I need a new makeup bag, but I am 1. a terrible packer & 2. clueless to most things in the beauty world. This is my regular lineup. What kind of bag/container should I get?
ETC requested strawberry pancakes like Daniel Tiger has. It's been a loooong time since I made pancakes. The waffle iron is more forgiving of a shaky, uncoordinated hand.