Stick a Fork in Me

Let me recap my day.

12:01 a.m.  “Mommee, can I sleep with you?”   Waaa?  Um OK, sure. 

1:00 a.m.  G!  STOP KICKING ME!!  “BUT I WANT TO!!!!”

1:05 a.m.  “Mommy?  Do you know I kick you because I love you?”  Thanks G, but maybe you could show it in another way mkay?  Now go to sleep. 

2:00 a.m.  My lower half commences punishment for the lovely soft serve ice cream I treated myself to that evening.  If anyone sees me ordering and/or eating soft serve, milkshakes, etc.  please smack it out of my hand.  Because 2 a.m. is a BITCH.

5:15 a.m.  Commence G screaming and holding her ears in pain and running a low fever.  Run to get Motrin in her and some cold water.  Did I mention yesterday was a week after a tonsillectomy/adenoid removal surgery?  Most kids are raring to go in 2 days, back to doing the usual shenanigans, but no, my G will take the full 2 week recovery time and be miserable the entire time.  I hope and pray it’s worth it.  This has been a hell of a year sickness-wise.

7:00 a.m.  Wake up.  Fortunately got to sleep in a bit because today is the first day of 1st grade!!!  Woo hoo!  I get to pretend I don’t work for a few minutes and get the pleasure of driving my kiddo to school.  Wait, damn.  Started my period.  Commence day of cramps.

8:35 a.m.  Realize I have been farting around for an hour and a half and start screaming for everyone to get in the car, while I haven’t gotten dressed yet and the kids are only halfway there.  Apparently 1.5 hours is not as long as I think it is.

8:55 a.m.  Drop Bear off at school.  Hover nervously until I realize I am making things worse, then leave.  Tear up for God knows why.  I am excited about this day, why am I crying?


First day!  Can you see BOTH of them?  hee hee
First day! Can you see BOTH of them? hee hee


9:00 a.m.  Drop G off at Grandma and Papa’s cause there’s no way she’s going to back to preschool this week.  Too bad I paid for half a week optimistically.

9:30 a.m.  Get to work.  Receive icy glare from co-worker whom has been dumped with all my work from my yesterday call off due to no sitters and a still sad, pathetic recovering daughter and a late start today due to school starting.  Commence work, attempt to prove I am a team player.  Turn brain off.

3:40 p.m.  Receive frantic call from school secretary.  What number bus is Bear supposed to be on?  What 5, not 6?  He’s NOT supposed to go home, but to daycare?  Just like he’s telling us?  Just like last year?  OHHH.  Well he missed that bus because we told him not to get on the right one, can you come get him?

3:42 p.m.  Calm upset son down.  Call Grandma and Papa frantically.  G/P to the rescue.  All’s fixed.  Make several phone calls to ensure this doesn’t happen again.

3:43 p.m.  Get report from G/P that G is not doing so hot today.  Call ENT AGAIN to be reassured this is very normal and as long as she’s eating and drinking and no fever over 102, she’s on her way to recovery, BUT it could be another week away from being over.  Sigh.

3:45 p.m.  Stare at margarita mix in the fridge (Yes, we have that at work and yes, it’s mine.  It’s not such a bad place to work really.).  Try to figure out if I can have a drink and still drive across town in an hour and then stay awake the rest of the evening.   Decide against.  I am such a friggin trooper.

5:00 p.m.  Due to being late, not in my usual parking place in the Parking Garage of Horrors (aka our underground, multi-level, low ceiling, heavily pillared, tiny parking spaced, hairpin turn building parking garage), I attempt to back out of a space completely opposite what I’m used to and BAM!  Despite, a back up camera, various beeping safety features and blind spot detectors, I have hit a pillar HARD with my just over a year old super pretty mom-mobile.  Now, it looks like this.

Seriously.  Worst.  Driver. EVER.
Seriously. Worst. Driver. EVER.

5:10 p.m.  Call hubby and swear and cry A LOT.  Assurance given that I won’t be killed for car and kids will be OK.

5:30 p.m.  Get to G/P house to be greeted with a homemade dinner and a kind ear.  Guess it all isn’t bad is it?

7:00 – 8:30 p.m.   Return home, bath wrangle (see this post for that experience), be told THIS IS THE WORST DAY EVER, simply because I tried to wash her hair.  Get yelled at for making a 6  year old go poop even though he’s farting so bad he’s making it hard to breathe in here. Watch Tinkerbell Secret of the Wings AGAIN.  Read books – Barbie Charm School AGAIN.  (It was G’s night to pick.)

9:00 a.m.  Tell my sad story to you fine folks and listen to my cat yowl from the bedroom.   The one waiting for her turn and her nightly wet nose, pile of hair rubdown.

Stick a fork in me folks.  I’m done.

BUT.  If I was in politics, I would spin it like this.

Snuggle with daughter all night!

Midnight cleanse!

Sleep in later!

I’m not pregnant!

Take kids to school!  See new class and teacher, get to be excited and present as a parent!

I have a job!

I have people to come to my rescue!

I can drink at work!

I have a new car to scrape up!

Supportive husband!

Supportive family!

Free, prepared, delicious dinner!

Quality kid time!

Get love from a devoted kitty!

I guess it’s all in how we look at it right?

Good night y’all.  Here’s to a less eventful tomorrow.



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