My kid shits rainbows.

Not really. But if he did, it'd be pretty cool and I'd buy these wall decals in commemoration. Like woah.

I want to do something painty and fun in Alvin's room. Now that they have non toxic paint, pregnant ladies can't sit by drinking lemonade while others paint nursery walls for them. This is actually a good thing for me because painting rooms in our rental house is low to nonexistent on my husband's list of priorities. What should I do? Oh, the possibilities.

At the moment, I'm working (and by working I mean stopping to blog) and a Cleaning Lady (tm) is vacuuming my house. No, it's not a hallucination. It is, however, really f'n weird. My grandfather sent her over for the morning since he's out of town and hasn't mussed his house or whatever.

She keeps sighing. And my vacuum broke. And I spent an hour cleaning in anticipation of her arrival.

THIS IS STRESSFUL, PEOPLE.