Woulda Coulda Shoulda

Good morning! I hope your Christmas was completely awesome. Mine was, except today I am realizing that a few days of not enough sleep + eating whatever looks good + sure, I’ll have another glass of wine + oh yes, more coffee, please = my body begging for mercy.

I wisely processed this confluence of circumstances as I woke up this morning, stretching and rising from the twin bed where Chickadee had slept the night before. (While the kids were here, they slept in twin beds in the spare bedroom while Otto and I slept on the pull-out couch in the living room. Now that the kids have gone to their dad’s, our hosts suggested we move to the spare bedroom to avoid the early morning stampede of nephews. Late last night I flung myself down on top of Otto, on his bed, gave him a hug and a kiss, and then got up and hopped into the bed catty corner from him, while calling “Good night, Ozzie!”) Anyway, as I walked down the stairs this morning, I vowed to set aside the holiday gluttony and get back to some sensible eating.

And then I said good morning to my sister-in-law and the nephews, and helped myself to a cookie from the plate sitting on the kitchen island. (more…)

The cot did finally show up at the motel, which was awesome because the kids fell asleep right away. And then there couldn’t have been more than three separate incidents of people having loud conversations either out in the hallway or underneath our window during the night.

Chickadee was snoring. Monkey talks in his sleep. And Otto still hasn’t gone in for the sleep study he really needs to go have, but we have long suspected he has some sleep apnea, and thanks to the other noise, I was awake most of the night listening to him rest oh-so-peacefully (which was not, in fact, peaceful, as it turns out, so much as it was him NOT BREATHING) inbetween snorting in great gasps of air on account of that whole forgetting-to-breathe thing.

It was extremely relaxing, except not. BUT! Then we got up the next morning and Chickadee said, “My eye hurts!” and I was certain she was going to turn out to have pink eye, because wouldn’t that be the perfect topper to a night in hell at the SUPERGREAT motel? Oh, but I was aiming low. She didn’t have pinkeye. (more…)

Last night was the kids’ holiday program at school.

And by “holiday program,” I of course mean “Santa-centric Christmas show,” because this is the south and apparently here they don’t feel the need to so much as nod to Hanukkah or Kwanzaa or anything else. Politically correct, schmolitically bereft. Praise Jesus, pass the eggnog, and bless your heart if you’re not a church-going Christian, darlin’.

Anyway.

This children have been talking about this for MONTHS. I am not exaggerating. (I mean, I am ALWAYS exaggerating, just not about this particular thing.) Chickadee is in chorus, which is something you actually have to audition for, which is JUST SPLENDID because I think that by fourth grade it’s time to toughen up and get a taste of failure if you can’t sing to the elementary school music teacher’s expectations. Yes! Audition and either get into the chorus or OFF WITH YOUR HEAD! (more…)