Number of dill pickle quarts I canned this weekend: 15.
Number of strawberry, raspberry lime jam jars I canned this weekend: 5.
Number of canning jars broken: Zero, proof that miracles still happen.
Number of times I’ve teared up at the Olympics (or Olympic inspired commercials) after only three days: 14 (curse you Proctor & Gamble.)
Number of times my son has announced he’s going to compete in the 2020 Olympics: at least a dozen.
Number of sports my son believes he’s going to compete in: at least 4.
Number of times I’ve imagined being interviewed by Bob Costas about my son competing in four events at the 2020 Olympics: several.
Number of times I clapped my hands and squealed “I love Mary Poppins!” during the Opening Ceremony: five times more than a grown woman should.
Number of times I’ve started to sing “So Call Me Maybe” this weekend: 172.
Number of times the kids have joined in: 85.
Number of times the husband has joined in: zero.
Number of boxes of laminate flooring my husband bought this weekend for our downstairs: 2o.
Number of months it’s going to be before he has the time to install them: 6.
Projected number of times I’m going to stub my toe on the aforementioned boxes of laminate flooring: countless.
Number of times I looked at my chaotic, crazy life and said “I am so blessed.”: every single day.