I won’t lie about a horrible, secret, dirty truth. Now that I’m home, I iron everything. Ironing, always the ironing. Because my life is about stain-sticking and ironing, the girls are far more “dressed up” than they used to be. Still covered in jelly and syrup, but at least out of pjs.  I’m not at all bothered by Sara’s adamant refusal to wear pants.  It’s a dress or a skirt…and that’s final.  I finally have the laundry time to get into the whole “girls are fun to dress” part of motherhood!

I got the memo from school that everyone expects, “We do a lot of artwork. Please send them in clothes you are comfortable getting dirty.” Because we pretty much paint in our prom dresses here, I just ignored that memo.