First things first.

If your husband ever approaches you and says this: "Dearest, an add came in the mail, you're favorite store is having a sale. I'll watch the kids. You go shop."

Don't ask questions.

Don't offer to go later, not even during rest time.

Don't even off a compliment or thanksgiving.

Get up. And go.

Because, it could just be that an alien has only temporarily invaded your sweetheart and you have but a window of opportunity before the real man comes back and alien babysitting your kids or not, take the chance.

Or you could have really just married a considerate man.

Like I did.

Even if ok, he never called me dearest. Or HAS ever called me dearest.

So that was my morning on this glorious holiday.

And I didn't leave all of the kids. Stryker, my little must have accessory accompanied.

Besides I needed a man's opinion.

I was hoping to stay out of that tricky place called Hippy-ville.

I didn't have much luck.

I guess it's my style. There's not much I can do about it. I mean. Trust me, I've tried. But short of becoming rich and famous and hiring a personal shopper, I guess this is the short straw I drew in taste.

Besides, had I a personal shopper, we all know she would be on loan from like the Olsen Sisters or Rachel Zoe.

I can say though, that besides a super cheap, but cute(Ahem... sometimes cheap does not mean cute. Ok. Most of the time, cheap does not mean cute... But this time I promise it does!) black sweater that I actually probably won't wear until next winter.

Oh Dear Lord, PLEASE do not let me be the same size next winter!!!

I picked other colors besides black.

Don't mind the fact that I am eaten away with serious buyers remorse, wondering if I can actually pull off colors like blue and green.

But it's a step in the right direction.... Right?

Oh. And I got summer shoes.

Boy. Did I need those.

And Stryker was the perfect baby the whole time. Oh, besides his constant fussing. But even then, one fussing baby is easier than three happy ones.

Especially happy ones.

They get so curious when they're happy, and grown up shops do not appreciate Scarlett.

At. All.

After the mall, I stopped by my mother's house. Which, I wasn't there very long, but it is just so nice to see her without the kids who suck all of her attention and demand that I leave so THEY can have alone time with her.

Sometimes it's just nice to connect with my mom without rugrats. And so I did.

And then to the cemetery. Which was SO busy! I mean, that place was hopping.

Stryker got out to see the old gravestone and we talked to my dad for a little while underneath a cool tree that wasn't nearly as big as I remember it being, especially since I feel like he just died yesterday and in fact, it's been almost six years.

Oh. My.

Dad, didn't have a lot to say back, since he isn't actually there. But... I like to pretend he is. Just so he can meet those precious grandchildren that got an unfair deal in life, by not getting to know their Papa.

So. Now I'm home. And this place is just chill.

We are just chill.

I'm actually supposed to be baking a dessert for tonight, but I have to wait on my butter to reach room temperature since I can't defrost it in the non-existent microwave.

FYI, since I refuse. REFUSE. To turn the air conditioning on until either June or the weather reaches above 90, it won't take long.

Or until Zach overrules me. Saying, "Woman, I work in this all day, every day, and I need to come home to some reprieve."

Or. Something along those lines.

And I'm listening to my Dolly Parton Pandora Radio Station. Because, Man. I love Dolly.

Love her.

But on top of all of the awesome and ok, very, very normal and not really exciting to the general population things I did today.

I have some great news.

Like. Fantastic news!

Because are you tired of hearing about HivEs? :)

ME TOO!!

And today I can finally say, for the most part, that finally, finally I look not only normal but feel closer to normal than I have in a week!

Hallelujah. Praise the Lord. Forever. And Ever. Amen.

Oh my word.

Yesterday, I felt A TON better. But still, you know, the memory of misery wasn't that far behind me. And I was still terrified to dry my hair and/or put any kind of lotion, or soap, or deodorant or product of any kind or sort even in the same room as my skin.

I've been super hygienic this week.

Believe me.

But today, I not only took a warm-ish shower, and used all of the products/sprays/lotions/cleansing-products/and/hair-gel I needed, but I also blow dried my hair.

Holla!

This is like a brand new day.

So. Today, shopping wasn't only successful because I found a few things, but I also didn't feel like the sickly outcast leper I have been over the past week.

Like seriously.

My skin is almost all the way cleared up AND no more itching.

Ugh. Itching is The. Worst.

So lets just hope and pray I never, ever, ever have to experience anything like that again, and I'll continue to enjoy the side effect of "Wakefulness" that comes along with the prescription steroids until I finish them and then swear off prescription drugs again all together.

Well. Until I need them again.

And now to my Nova Scotian Blueberry Cream Cake. Doesn't that just sound amazing? My dear friend Charis passed along the recipe.

And I'm adding Strawberries.

Be. Jealous.