Sometimes I start typing, then realize I’ve just written, like, an entire page worth of pointless, inane information. Which I guess is what just happened with this post title, also.

-There is something so completely, inherently WRONG about having a cold when it’s 90 degrees outside.  First Olivia had it.  I carried this false sense of security; I almost never catch her illnesses.  Even despite sharing food and spoons, straws and continual daily exposure, I never get sick too.  Except when I do.  Like this time.  It’s the kind of cold that has you shaking your fists toward the heavens while you lay in bed at night, gasping for air because your nostrils have closed shop with a, “Sorry for the inconvenience!  We’ll be back in a maddeningly indeterminate amount of time!” sign.  Meanwhile, I will sit here with eyes streaming, snuffling loudly to the assured annoyance of every person around me.

- Due to our newest living circumstances, Olivia and I have been sharing a bedroom.  Which is, like, my worst nightmare.  But it’s been ok so far because she hasn’t realized I’m there yet.  We have a tall dresser up against her bed which blocks her view of mine, so as far as she’s concerned, I just magically appear every morning when she starts calling for me (because, even though she can, she will never leave her bed by herself).  There have been plenty of close calls, like that time when I was reading in my bed with a flashlight (AH! It’s like I’m 10 again!).  She woke up, crawled down her bed to peer at me, and said, “Well, I want a flashlight.”  So I just switched mine off real quick and didn’t say anything.  After a while, she kind of shrugged, crawled back into her covers and fell asleep.

- The best part about this whole arrangement is being privy to her sleep talking.  Basically, Olivia talks alllllllllllll day long, then falls asleep and talks alllllllllllllll night long, too.  The other night she began crying hysterically.  I began to get concerned until she muttered, “Ahhhh, it’s a fairy trap!”  and continued to sob.  Plus! Every morning when she wakes up, she will hang out and talk, sing, and laugh for a hour or so before she wants to get out of bed.  Seriously, I’ve tried getting her before she is finished and received a, “HEY!  I didn’t call for you!  No!  I’m not ready yet!!” for my trouble.  So I sit and chuckle to myself while she bursts into songs from Tangled and cracks up at her own stories.  “Wow!  I just had a dream about a baby bird!  And I had to feed it some worms!  And then I saw ants!!  Ahhhh hahahahahaha!  They were so liiiiittle and that bird’s mommy was there, too! Ahhhh hahahaha!” 

- I am reading the last Harry Potter for maybe the sixth time.  I have to prepare for the movie, you see.  And it’s not like I have to tell you, because you would already assume this is so, but let me just tell you anyway, because what if you’ve only just starting reading here and heretofore have not become aware that I love these types of things desperately: I’ve had my tickets for a midnight showing of Deathly Hallows Part Two for ages by now.  And it doesn’t even come out until July 14!  If, for whatever random reason, I die before that date?  I’m going to be pretty pissed.

- I took Olivia to a new waterpark this week.  Our regular one was crawling with a RIDICULOUS amount of people, plus I couldn’t find anywhere to park, so we scratched that one and found a new one.

It was the cutest.  The entire thing was made for little ones.  We both loved it. Except I couldn’t figure out why I was basically the only mom there that didn’t have the greatest body ever of all time?  Were we there on Best Mom-Bodies Ever Day? Is it because we were more northward?  Perhaps the closer you get to SLC, the hotter the moms are??  Conundrum.

Oh!  Olivia had her weekly night’s stay with her dad, so Emily and I decided to hit the town.  And by hit the town, I mean, go to Café Rio and Target! (and I’m secretly impressed with my blogging software for automatically putting the accent over the ‘e’ in café.  Ah!  It just did it again!  Let’s try another one.  Paper mache.  Huh, well, at least café works!)

After we filled our bellies to their fullest capacity, we hit up Target.  We skulked about in the nail polish aisle for ages.  I love nail polish with my whole heart, might, mind, and soul.  We were choosing colors at a rapid pace, when suddenly I realized that every color we’d chosen matched Emily’s super awesome tie dyed shirt.  Behold:

I am suspicious that hours worth of exposure to the colors on her shirt were what motivated the neon-ly bright colors we ultimately chose.  Hypnotism by shirts is real, people. I should know.

And a terrible phone picture of the two of us.  I should warn you- every picture in this post is a terrible phone picture.  You see, I’ve lost my camera charger.  Well, not so much lost, but misplaced, definitely.  My real camera battery has died and I’ve lacked sufficient motivation to search for its charger.  So: phone pictures.  My apologies.

There is a long-standing rule at my parents’ house that states:  “In the circumstance that one has placed restaurant food  into the refrigerator, one must mark one’s food with one’s name, for in the day that one neglects to so mark it, one’s delectable leftovers will surely disappear.”  At least I think that’s what it said.  There might have been a few less ‘one’s involved.

I had to follow the rules, you know.  And I added all those ‘ha ha ha’s because I knew it would make my dad laugh.  Which it totally did.

Also!  Here is a cute picture of Olivia with her cherry dipped cone:

Olivia, continuing her penchant for finding enchantment in the most random of items, has found an unlikely friend in this stuffed sting ray.  When I asked her to take this picture she said, “WAIT!  I have to hold him up so you can see his smile!”  Hence, his creepy mouth in the above picture.

Ok, one last thing, I promise!  Tonight O and Rusty got soaking wet and had to be put in t-shirts while their clothes dried.

I guess I oughta thank you if you made it through this post in its entirety.  One day I’ll start breaking these babies up into bite-sized chunks.  But, knowing myself, that will probably never happen.