Shanghai'd (warning: rant inside)

So I WAS going to have a post up of my daughter being cute in a fluffy dress. Hair in braids, all dolled up and such. But all I have is the above cell phone photo in bad lighting of the finished top. Why?

Cause my dear husband is the master of observation, that's why. He and the roommate are over at a friends house for hours of Dungeons and Dragons and he arranged for my mother-in-law to take the kids so I could get some things done without them underfoot. The subject of 'clothes for church' came up and I said she could wear the outfit if I could get it done in time.

Which I didn't. Even though I couldn't sleep well last night, maybe not till 2am, I stopped sewing at midnight. I was making all sorts of dumb mistakes because I was tired and my back was acting up(I've learned that lesson the hard way). When I got up this morning and started on the waistband I couldn't find the skirt, or the blouse ANYWHERE. I freaked. I woke him up from his nap in a tizzy(in his defense, he DID get up with them this morning and get them to TaiKwonDo. He is very good about these things). In hindsight I could have handled that better. My temper got the better of me*.

Apparently he gave the whole outfit, unfinished, to his Mom for Felicity to wear. Hear that? That's the sound of me pounding my head on my desk. I love my husband but when it comes to clothes and dressing he might as well be Einstein. Brilliant at math, wears (and owns multiples of) the same thing every day so he doesn't have to worry about matching clothes. Ok, maybe not that bad but I feel entitled to a little ranting here. Also, I'd like to point out that when you've been with someone for 14 years it seems to be the little things that make you have stupid arguments**. Either you've worked out how to solve the big problems by now or you wouldn't be together still.

I'm not sure how much I'm going to be able to post in the next week as I'm working four 12 hour days. I'm fairly wiped out after that and it takes a day to recover.

*I fully admit to having a stereotypical red-headed temper. I like to be honest about my crazy.

**According to our friends we don't even really argue. More like we just have momentary lapses of communication and my red-headed temper flairs up and then he logics his way out of it. Or just says "yes dear". My inward response to these two things is to want to stamp my foot, cross my arms and stick my tongue out at him with a healthy dose of THHBTTBTTBTTHHH.