I have hardly thought about my weight this week. With the flood on Thursday, I missed my Weight Watchers meeting. Tomorrow is Kindergarten orientation for Patch, so I'm hoping to go on Friday. I am not expecting good things. We've had a lot of eating out, since our kitchen has been out of commission. Yesterday was the first day I could really get in there and do anything. Like dishes. Normally we have a no-shoe policy in the house. Kids shoes are gross. But we are now facing the opposite in the kitchen. The floor has staples and is rough wood. The last thing we need are splinters in tender tootsies.
It's hot here. In fact, it truly is too darn hot. Like 90. With major humidity. I tolerate summer. I know, I know. I should love it. I love taking my kids to the pool (and they love going). My birthday, anniversary, Patch's birthday, and Curly's birthday all fall within summer. I love to grill. I love going to the park. However, I love all this when it's about 75 tops. Maybe we should move to San Diego. I don't think dishwasher hoses crack in San Diego. In fact, I'm certain they don't.