It's a Magenta kind of day.....

I used to call these days an Indigo Haze. Or Tangled Up in Indigo, my twist on my fave Bob Dylan song. BUT Blanche on Golden Girls (you should all know my obsession) calls it a Magenta day.


And so I'm having a Magenta Day.

And it's getting on my nerves.

I had to hit the ground running this morning and have the youngest two to the dr.'s office by 8:30. That's early for us these days. Both have ear infections. And the youngest one has a pretty rough case of teething (9 months old and still not 1 tooth) on top of her ear infection. So I've had a rough couple of nights lately, including staying up late last night to work on crafts for the oldest one's Valentine's party today. (When will I learn?) Thankfully I had a good Jane Austen flick to watch. (I have GOT to stop blogging about Jane Austen!)

But the worst part of the day is Bruiser's speech. His speech has been severely delayed b/c of his constant ear infections (not to mention 3 sets of tubes! wait, I guess I just did mention it!). We even now have him working with a speech therapist. But his cold is so severe that his speech is even WORSE. Usually able to understand every little thing he says, I am having GREAT difficulty today.

And it's getting old. For both of us.

Have I mentioned I'm short on sleep?

The entire ride to the dr.'s office this morning he kept telling me he wanted to listen to a certain song. It took ten minutes before I finally got it. He was frustrated. I was frustrated. But perhaps answered our question on whether or not we should continue his therapy. Not sure what we'll do next year when we make a school change (that's a topic for another blog post...when I'm confidant I can blog without tears).

And so while typing about my Magenta Day, and shoving my face with pizza (did I mention I hadn't eaten yet today?), and guzzling copious amounts of caffeine (did I mention I hadn't had caffeine yet?) I get called to the living room. And this is what I find.




And while uploading these photos, I have the privilege of listening YET AGAIN to my dad's bluegrass band, The Jesus Man Gospel Band. I like bluegrass probably more than the next ordinary gal, but the bluegrass gene has definitely been passed on to my sweet little Bubba. The child CRAVES it. So as I type I hear my dad plucking his banjo and singing "So come on church, take heed to your calling...." Lyrics he wrote himself, by the way. It's a great little diddy.



Now, I ask you, who can have a Magenta Day around that???? I think my Indigo Haze has lifted.

And now my presence is being requested. One is on the banjo, one has the drum. Evidently I'm needed on the tamborine. Thank you, God. Life is good.

Sidebar: It was recently brought to my attention by a frequent reader of my blog that my post about someone giving me "advice" was cocky, arrogant even. For those who truly know me, you know that this was NOT my intention. It was just a little story that was going thru my head while shopping at Target. It was, of course, from my days as a nanny and NOT as a parent. Hopefully this was NOT offensive to any of you. My sweet MIL even commented to me that she found the hilarity in it. So I'm trusting most of you took it the correct way. For those who didn't, my sincere apologies. Sarcasm doesn't translate in the written word as well as it does in tone and inflection of one's own voice. I'll try to make my written voice as cocky colorful as my spoken word. (So how was that?)