There's a party at my house tonight. You're all invited! Unfortunately, it's a theme party. Specifically, a pity party. So you all may bring cheese, and chocolate, and crises; and I will supply copious quantities of whine and bread pudding, and we will watch the season premiere of ER and take a break from wailing about our difficult lives to make snarky comments about how ER just hasn't been the same since George Clooney left. It promises to be quite a night. I hope you can come. But first! I must settle the children in with the babysitter, who will entertain them for about fifteen minutes...
This day is shaping up just swimmingly, lemme tell ya. It's 11:15 and I haven't even had a shower yet. It's that kind of day. I woke up with a sore throat. No biggie. Just the start of a cold, most likely. But it didn't put me in the most stellar of moods, I suppose you could say. So the fact that the children were rather, uhhhhh, high-spirited, let's say, this morning, was perhaps not fully appreciated by my cranky self. Nevertheless, they were washed and dressed and fed and ushered out the door at the appropriate time. I packed lovely lunches that no one will eat, and even wrote Chickadee...
(A drama in way too many parts.) Part One: May-ish: An auto insurance premium notice arrives, with a due date in July. I am horrified at the amount, but reason that surely it must be the premium for an entire year. Nope; it's the payment for only 6 months. I pass out cold. When I come to, I call my insurance agent. He is unavailable, on account of he is never available. Part Two: June-ish: My agent still has not called back, so I call him again. We go over my policy. We make the startling discovery that your insurance finally figuring out that you're divorced and taking away the multi-car...
I spent about two hours, this morning, rending my clothing and trying to get BlogSpot to publish my posts. I finally left for a hair appointment that ended up being longer than Titanic, and when I came home, my screen was still flashing the dreaded yet cheerful: Percentage of your blog which has published: 0% (HAHAHAHA you sucky loser with the free trailer-trash blog!!) So now, in addition to being slightly high due to the fumes still circulating my head in the name of beauty, I am seriously cranky. And it's raining. As it nearly always is on days when I empty my checking account at the...
Nine hours of sleeping like the dead has not cured me of a severe case of selfpityitis. Neither has directing the small ones to clean their rooms. Or all of us "lounging" (read: being slugbutts) in our pajamas all morning. I may have to break down and make an appointment to see my therapist. She's a lovely woman who never tires of listening to me tell her what a horrible human I am. Or maybe she's just thinking of all the things she can buy with the gobs of money my insurance company gives her. I'm not really sure. Kira and I have exchanged a tearful reunion via email, complete with...
So you know how I was getting all nostalgic last night before my vacation had even, technically, ended? Know how I was saying that it was time to come on back to reality, blah blah blah? Reality was here waiting for me! Yessir! Reality welcomed me home good and proper. But wait. Let's back up, first. Our trip today was uneventful in spite of the fact that today is apparently Close All But One Lane Of The Road Day in the northeast. Road work was happening everywhere. No matter; the trip was a little bit longer than usual but not too bad. But I was thrown off my game early on today when I...
I. am. so. sick. of. rain. Today is the first day in two weeks that we didn't have to get up early and hustle out the door to camp. I figured we would sleep in--which is to say, Chickadee and I would sleep in while Monkey would slide into bed with me at his usual time but be placated with Disney Channel--and then come up with something fun that we could do today at a leisurely pace. Thanks to a weekend with Fun Daddy and a grey dawn, both children slept quite late. We're all up now... sorta... and we're all cranky. The children are annoyed that they can't go out to play. I am being followed...
So Chickadee was injured at the Foosball table on the first day of camp. On the third day, the same boy came over and started hassling her while I was standing right there (that one has a bright future, lemme tell ya) and I was able to scare him off. This morning (day 5) I was run over by a 10ish-year-old boy (he did say sorry, but I have a huge bruise) who was retrieving a 4-square ball; and at pick-up, we were in the room not one minute when Monkey was beaned on the head with a ball. I was trying to give them the benefit of the doubt. But that was enough, don't you think? I spoke with the...
... the kids and I played "if we don't start cleaning this place up, Mama's head is going to explode." I'd say that for a Sunday, today was a total success. We got up, we ate, we went to church. Where there was a VBS "demonstration," which involved any teachers and willing children who'd attended this past week's festivities going up front to sing along on some VBS songs with the band. So I sent Chickadee up with the other kids (no point in trying to tear Monkey away from his coloring), and she came back to me a verse later. She didn't want to sing alone. (The other twenty people up there...
