Seriously - we don't watch The Office anymore. We can sell Season 1, Kevin.

The upside of being in the house all the time: I have the time and motivation to continue working on the house. Surfaces continue to be revealed.

The downside of being in the house all the time: Children like to make messes. I spend as much time cleaning up after them as I do trying to get new things organized.

Scarlett's cast comes off on January 30th. There will be one more X-ray, and then a teeny, tiny chance of another cast for a couple of weeks. I'm practically force feeding the child milk and dairy to prevent that from happening, but it seems like whenever we have a "small chance" of something bad happening [see: open heart surgery] we fall on the wrong side of the odds. But onward we plow, hoping against hope that we will see her skinny legs revealed at the end of the month. I will gladly give up the extra organization time if it means my girl can get herself to the potty all by herself.

The early part of this week is a soft lob, so to speak. I have to do kids artwork/cards/creations today and I keep a pretty tight handle on that stuff. I cannot tell you how many times I've been busted by someone seeing their precious art in the garbage. I've thrown my husband under the bus many times. "Uh, dad must not have known how IMPORTANT that particular picture of the unicorn was. Here, let me clean the coffee grounds off of him. Oh, sorry. Of course. Unicorns are ALWAYS girls. How silly of me."

Also, there was some passive aggressive movement in the sell piles this weekend. Some things I had added mysteriously migrated back out. I returned them. They disappeared. How intriguing.

I also realized that if we do get a yard sale organized, I'm going to have to dispense with my children for the morning. There is no way I'm going to deal with a 6 year old crying because I'm selling her copy of The Collected Works of A Certain Monkey Who Just. Won't. Stop. Being. Curious. [and a bit of an asshole, if you ask me.] I'm not kidding, each story is at least 90 pages long and full of the worst parenting advice ever. Man in the Yellow Hat? You sir, are a monkey enabler. Set some boundaries.