It may be time to give up sleeping
I’ve been running about three hours behind ALL DAY. Could someone please find me a few extra hours? Pretty please? Also, it would be good if someone would be kind enough to get the “Nookie” earworm out of my head. I do hereby solemnly swear that I most certainly did NOT take that cookie and stick it up my… ummm… anything. I just ATE the cookie. And by cookie I mean COOKIE, nothing else. Sheesh.
So, uh, by way of illustration, I’ll just mention that I got the kids off to school and then worked feverishly in my pajamas until… umm… lunchtime. Then I had a shower and put on real clothes and made a sandwich and worked until it was time to get them. Then we came home and I threw them outside to play so I could work some more. I stopped for a while to attend to dinner and homework and showers and reading and bedtime, then resumed work once again until… ummm… just now. And I need to get back to it.
Procrastination + deadlines = Mir needing MUCH MORE caffeine
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Pssst!
Remember last week when I mentioned going off Unemployment? No, I did not take another full-time job. But I have officially surpassed what I qualify for in Unemployment, purely on freelance contracts. For those keeping score at home, I started this little adventure in earnest approximately 6 weeks ago.
Pardon me while I give myself a pat on the back. And a cookie.
Speaking of cookies, I hope you’ll come visit me at one of my newest gigs.
Please pass the kleenex
There’s a phenomenon in reality television shows that I refer to as the “but NEXT WEEK” principle. Basically it has to do with dramatic tension and how–depending on a given show’s construct–each successive episode is even more scary or riveting or unexpected or WHATEVER than the last. Things just grow and grow and there is no going back.
For example: I have a friend who desperately wants to be on “What Not to Wear” on TLC. I’ve nominated her a couple of times, and I suspect that some of her students have as well. But WNTW has already done square-dressing school teachers. They can’t possibly do another one, because now they’re however many episodes in and the people they feature now are regularly heading out to the grocery store wearing nothing but burlap sacks tied up with rope, and for formal events they don polyester jumpsuits in various flowered patterns. The fact that my friend relies overmuch on polarfleece really can’t compete.
When those nanny shows started up, the kids in them were stubborn and rude. By now, you tune in to one of those shows and the nanny is confronting a small army of shrieking minors armed with AK-47s and fully rotating heads.
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Another pop quiz
1) A child appears on the stairway after lights-out, saying, “Mama?” You…
A) Fork the sign of the cross in his general direction.
B) Shriek “GET IN BED!”
C) Pretend not to hear him.
D) Sigh heavily and answer, “Yes, honey?”
2) He continues on with, “Can I use the bathroom down here?” You…
A) Begin performing an exorcism.
B) Grab a switch and commence thrashing.
C) Pretend to be dead.
D) Raise your eyebrows and manage, “Why…?”
3) “Because I feel like I have to throw up, and the garbage can in the bathroom up here is full.” You…
A) Inform him that vomiting is exceedingly unholy.
B) Bellow, “DON’T THROW UP IN THE TRASHCAN!”
C) Go to the kitchen for some cookies.
D) Hustle the child into the bathroom at lightning speed while your own stomach hitches.
4) Small, pitiful child is now standing over the toilet coughing and gagging. You…
A) Pray.
B) Duct tape his head to the commode so he doesn’t make a mess.
C) Take a nap.
D) Rub his back and try not to gag while you murmur soothing words.
5) After a prolonged attempt, the child produces nothing more than a small loogie–spitting it into the potty and announcing that he feels fine now. You…
A) Set him on fire.
B) Tell him you’ll show him what throwing up is.
C) Rent out his room.
D) Burst into hysterical, relieved laughter and carry him back to bed.
Who says my Saturday nights are boring?
You can stop squinting, now
I have a million things I should be doing today, so naturally I decided it was time to give in to the gazillion comments I’ve received about the text on the t-shirts being too small. If you go to the Woulda Coulda Shoulda shop you’ll see that all of the shirts now come in easy-reader versions. Heh.
In other news…
… look! Over there! SOMETHING SHINY!
Crap. It’s just a grey hair. An entire afternoon of scrubbing my head with everything short of brillo pads seemed to have little effect on The Dye Job From Hell, last week, but now we have a handy reminder that… hair grows. And grey grows faster than anything else.
Wait. *peering closer* I knew it! Even my hair doesn’t grow that fast. It’s just a grey hair that decided to release all the dye. So my normal hair is still unnaturally dark, but THANK GOODNESS the grey has decided to resume its former glory. All I need now is for my boobs to make the same sort of comeback and no one will even notice the grey!
If I was going somewhere with that, it was nowhere good. Let’s start over.
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Geronimo!
First things first: Get your own delicious, dusty brains here.
Now that that’s out of the way, I thought you’d all like to share in the excitement that is today’s letter from my friendly neighborhood Unemployment Office. Remember all those fun “workshops” I get to go to? Well, they wanted to let me know that the wait for more thrill-a-minute instruction is almost over–I have been summoned to appear for a workshop on Interviewing on October 25th. Failure to appear may result in immediate termination of my benefits, as well as hair loss, cavities, and the inability to do anything other than drool on potential employers.
I know I’ve made fun of these things before, but I’m here to tell you that I repent. I do. I was thrilled to receive that notice today. Tickled, really.
Stop laughing. Don’t you believe me? I swear that I am absolutely, positively, 100% telling you the truth…
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Owned
Monkey: If you love Mama more than apple dumpling cake, raise your hand!
*he raises his hand, while his sister stares out the window*
Chickadee: I’m not raising my hand.
Monkey: Well I am! I love Mama more than cake!
Me: You didn’t even LIKE the cake.
Monkey: Right, so I love you more!
Me: Thanks.
Chickadee: I didn’t raise my hand because I think I love that cake more. It’s sooo good!
Me: Okay, so let me get this straight. YOU love me more than cake you hate, and YOU would rather have a piece of cake than a mother who loves you. Wow, I feel special.
Chickadee: Don’t worry, Mama. I still need you to GET the cake for me.
Time to change the clocks
It was dark when we got up today. Daaaark. In the morning. I hate that. Also, it’s still raining.
Plus: Hey, I can’t possibly be expected to mow or rake in this sort of weather.
Minus: I can’t put out the Halloween decorations without a measure or two more of motherly commitment than I currently possess.
Apropos of nothing: I think I should have my hearing checked. Here in the Land O’ Dunkin Donuts they keep running this commercial for the new vanilla spice coffee. Twice now I have been COMPLETELY POSITIVE that they were hawking “new liver spice coffee!”
It’s not that I’ve been drinking liver spice coffee (or any coffee, for that matter), but I warn you now that there is no cohesion to be had here. It’s just been that sort of day. Apples, yes. Beauty tips, sure. But no cohesion.
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Milestones instead of millstones
Sometimes I find myself being impatient with my children when they are slow to change behavior that has already proven counterproductive. To wit: Monkey does NOT like it if he is the last one upstairs on school mornings. You’d think this would compel him to get ready faster, but you’d be wrong. What it DOES cause him to do is pitch a great big hairy hissy fit when he realizes that I am packing lunches and Chickadee is eating breakfast and he is standing at the top of the stairs, alone and naked save for the underwear on his head. It’s becoming a problem.
And honestly, I have no idea where he gets that. Make the same mistake over and over, and then cry about the results? That’s just dumb. And so completely foreign to me. Ahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Sorry. I really thought I was going to manage that one with a straight face, but ummmm, no.
[For you, Dad: Why do I keep banging my head against this wall? Because it feels so good when I finally stop!]
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