In Which the Boy's Head is Introduced to Gravel

I do not like switching out out Daylight Savings Time.

I do not like it, Sam I Am.

I do not like staring at the pitch black room, wondering why I am awake.

I do not like being woken up at 5 a.m.

(okay, I'm no Dr. Seuss.)

We finally got the jabbering boy out of his bed around 6 a.m., and the girl was up knocking at her door shortly thereafter. ugh, I hate my internal clock being so off. Can't we just get rid of DST? You know, like Arizona or something.

Aside from the rude awakening, it was a pretty normal day. Kids ate breakfast, played downstairs, I got some chores done (vacuuming and laundry, yay me!), all while trying to get my step count up on my pedometer. I've been trying to exercise more lately cause I'm not at all happy with the way my clothes don't fit, so the pedometer is a good daily reminder to work a little harder. (The leftover Halloween candy is kicking my butt, however.)

After the afternoon nap/quiet time, we all piled in the car to get some needed items for dinner at the store. (Beef stew, yummy!) I got the kids into the cart and got my list out. A lady from the bakery passes by me, makes eye contact with both kids and then me, and asks, "oh, can they have cookies? Is that okay?" She quickly comes back with a container and lets them take one each. Both Audrey and Nate had this flabbergasted look on their faces which was a combination of "Mom's letting us have cookies? At the store?" And they both happily took a cookie.

I'm probably going to jinx myself by saying this, but thankfully, I have yet to have one of "those" moments at the store involving my children. You know what I'm talking about. The moment where I'd have to abandon my cart full of items just to haul my kids out to the car in embarrassment because the entire store can hear their screams. No, I have not had that. Yet. And hopefully, I won't have to. They're both pretty good.

We get home, I get the kids out of the car, and set Nate down so I could get the bags out. My mistake. He takes off down the driveway, squealing all the way. I chase after him and stop him just as he gets to the edge of the driveway. He slides out of my hands, takes another step, and promptly trips and falls.

Hello, asphalt. Meet Nate's head.

So now the boy's got a nice little road rash on his forehead. Hopefully this will be the last time he tries to meet up with the road again without a proper invitation.

Honestly? I doubt it.