Copycat.

I wondered what it would take to get me back to blogging.  Because I've been sitting here, staring at the littlegreenbums tab on my browser for months, now, and just feeling like it was too much work to post something.  (Which is kind of sad in its own right, but I digress.)  I've been a little overwhelmed of late, and all of the Not Entirely Essentials---eyebrow waxing, jewelry-making, blogging, recipes that require more than 4 ingredients--have fallen waaaaaay by the wayside.

Gratuitous kid-shot...can't help it.

So, I'm back here because of a timely little nudge from my friend Kara over at Nekuda Tova.  Kara's reviving her own languishing-yet-marvelous blog with a thirty-day gratitude challenge, and I'm hopping on to her coattails in an effort to revive myself a little, too.

Which makes today Day One, and I'm grateful for credit cards.  Don't laugh.  This is a week chock-full of doctor's appointments for me and my brood, and this morning I set out with Lucky Number 5 in pursuit of a clean bill of health for her tympanic membranes.  So eager was I to arrive on time that we found ourselves idling in the hospital parking lot 40 minutes prior to her appointment.  Making one of those carpe diem-esque  decisions for which I'm notorious, I eased the grocery-getter on down the road to the local Walgreens in hopes of finding the Sharpies that I needed for a project later this week on sale.  We cruised the makeup aisle, chatted with the cashier, and headed out to the parking lot with loads of time to spare before we were due at the ENT.

Except the car wouldn't start, we missed the ENT appointment, got chummy with the AAA operator and the tow truck driver, and found out that the fuel pump in my 13-year-old chariot had gone kablooey.  To the cacophonous tune of $877.

I don't know about you folks, but $877 is not the kind of spare change I keep in my ashtray.   Or in my bank account, more's the pity.  So today I'm grateful for my friends at Chase bank---crazy interest rates and all--- for the fact that the Green Machine is back in the driveway, ready to schlep all and sundry to their designated    destinations.

Who woulda thunk it?