Last night, I had the most vivid dream that someone stole my children. When they were found, turns out some crazy lady took them so she could start pretending they were her children. And then I dreamt that I beat the hell out of her. I woke up panicked. But so stoked that I had beat her up.
I had a rouge can of pink lemonade in my freezer. I made it and it tastes terrible. But Van loves it. Last night, he asked for it to be put in his sippy cup for when he went to bed. Um, no. But we kept having him ask because he says, "bemblade" instead of "lemonade". It's pretty adorable.
I am fairly sure I have strep throat. Probably have to go to the doctor for it. Yeah.
Getting sick really throws a wrench in what I want to get done around here. I had plans, ya know. PLANS. Plans to figure out some type of Easter decor. Plans to go grocery shopping. Plans to get some new recipe development done. Plans to work out. But all of them are screwed. Looks like I will just have to sleep so I can get better. Darn.