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Stuck In A Shirt

I'm trying out this blogger app from my new fancy phone and here goes my first mobile post.

Our furnace started spewing gas a few weeks back and in an effort to prevent the house from going up in one giant ball of flames, we had the gas company come out and shut it off while it got repaired.

We had somewhat of a heat wave in the following days and the furnace wasn't on the top of my priority list in this post partum fog.  (How long can I use that excuse?  Baby is three months now.)

Then it got freezing. And suddenly all the furnace guys were busy. And suddenly we had no heat.

In our house hunting search, one thing we had wanted was a house that had more than one source of heat in case of power outages, nuclear warfare and times of procrastination.

Our new house came with a wood burning fireplace. It's smelly, messy and so nice to have! 







Since the fireplace can't heat up the whole house, I was dressed in layers.  Five shirts and two pairs of pants, to be exact. My postpartum thyroiditis keeps me feeling chilly at all times as it is. Take away a furnace and I'm an ice block.
The kids didn't care for layers and shed them as fast as I could put them on them. They ran around with purple hands and feet.

On Friday, the lovely furnace was up and running. The house hit 70 degrees and soon I was sweating like a pig. I started shedding layers and as layer two was coming off, Chet snuck up behind me and started tickling me. I tried to fend him off but I couldn't see and my arms were caught in my sleeves. The more I tried to hit, the more tangled up I got. I ran around in circles blindly, trying to kick him but kicked the couch instead. 

He left the room and I realized I was literally stuck in my shirt.

"Um, help!" I called out from under my shirt, my voice muffled.

He came back around the corner and almost fell over laughing.

"You are 27 years old with six kids and you are stuck in a shirt." he said, shaking his head as he helped me get untangled. 

Well, if that's how you see it, then yes. Yes, I am. 

It's the dreaded time of year to officially put away anything summer and dig out everyone's winter clothes. (A few of the kids think it's perfectly acceptable to put on shorts and a tank top and bike around outside in their bare feet.) Summer time clothes are so easy. Sundress and flip flops. Shorts, tank and sandals. Winter time is more complicated, especially for the girls. Sunday outfits are the worst.  Undershirt, skirt, leggings, tall boots, sweater, scarf. Leggings have hole in knee, swap out for tights. Tights tear as said child is putting them on. Try to find other tights. Other tights don't go with outfit. Remind self to buy neutral tights next time and not the clearance striped polka dot ones. Cancel whole outfit and put on jeans and cute sweater. Boots don't fit over or under jeans. Try to find some cute loafers. Find one. Listen to child complain about itchy sweater all morning. About once a month, I actually remember to put out outfits on Saturday evening. 

As soon as the other 5,325 remodeling projects are done in our new house, I am turning our laundry room into one large closet that will be set up like a store. Every article of kids clothing organized by size. No more bins and totes and messy closets and dressers and tears. Or that's the hope anyway. 

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