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Proof positive that I was not entirely sane

  • Posted on June 18, 2010 at 4:00 pm

I have a delightful plugin for this site called This Day. As you might imagine, it lists all the posts available on the same date in the past.

Today, I actually took the time to click through the titles and read them. And shake my head and laugh, both at the writing and at my level of paranoia. I was so sure that if I posted *any* detail that it would immediately become apparent who and/or what I was discussing.

Case in point: Quotable Quote from 2004. Joseph was 10 months old at the time, nursing ALL DAY LONG, and I looked like this…

Yes, it’s awfully blurry. I refused to stand still for my picture to be made. Yes, I am wearing bike shorts WITH a bathing suit. No, they didn’t make bathing suits that would properly support the awesome weight of my saggy milkbags boobs.

But enough about that. In this post, I refer to two men that want to spend time with me. One wanted me to come to him, one wanted to come to me (but not spend time with my kids).

The first thing you need to know is that I have absolutely NO CLUE who those men are today. Paranoia caused me to sanitize out any identifying information, and I’m friends with LOTS of people who are “at least two states away”.

The next thing you need to know is that neither of these visits happened. At the time the thought of leaving my babies for ANY amount of time was enough to cause an anxiety attack. I had a hard time separating from them to go to the gas station, going out of town (or to a local hotel room) for a weekend was completely unthinkable.

To be completely honest, I don’t know what I was thinking. I mean….I KNOW what I was thinking (Men!!! They still want me!!!!) but still.

Care to leave a comment?

This is SO not worth it…

  • Posted on September 25, 2008 at 10:36 am

Kid does not want to get out of bed.

Kid gets pulled out of bed by me – and then noodle legs himself into the floor.

Kid gets picked back up by me AGAIN, landed on his feet, and gently nudged in the general direction of the kitchen. Noodle legs again.

My head explodes just a smidge, and I yell “Papaw YOU get him up, I need to get the OTHER kid ready for school” (Papaw’s response: to sit on his ass and yell “Kid? get outta bed!”)

I run and get Kid2 started on breakfast, snatch NoodleLegs up out of the floor and land a swat on his behind – which as usual results in an ear-piercing scream. You know the scream – the one that sounds like a serial killer just found a victim.

Said scream brings My Sainted Mama running “to the rescue”. She’s been in her room the entire time (as usual) and has absolutely no clue what’s been going on for the last 20 minutes. She picks him up, carries him into the kitchen, sits him down in his chair, and pours the milk over his cereal. And then stares at him in wide-eyed wonder as he noodlescootches his way out of the chair and onto the floor, leaving said cereal to turn to mush.

She put him back in his chair and tried to hand him his clothes – and of course he promptly dropped them on the floor.

She stared at him.

And stared.

And said “You’re going to miss school if you don’t get dressed!”

And I said “That’s the general idea, Sainted Mama o Mine. He DOES NOT WANT TO GO.”

I picked the pants up and put them on him. I pulled the shirt on over his head and slid his noodlearms through the sleeves. The lightbulb finally, blessedly flickered on in Mama’s head and she went to retrieve his shoes so I could finish putting the lunches in boxes and doublecheck backpacks.

~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the school year – mornings exactly like this one – are being looked at with an extreme distaste. They like being with the kids in their classes (up to a point). The homework is for the most part busywork – practice on skills they’ve achieved proficiency in. They have been out of school (sick) almost as much as they’ve been there.

I want to let them go back to homeschooling. I just don’t know how we can achieve that without my head exploding.

2 comments on This is SO not worth it…

Interesting things are not happening here.

  • Posted on September 3, 2008 at 10:58 pm

Just the usual round of homework (kids and mine), the rise and not-fall of the laundry pile, and work.

So instead, I give you this:

Which leads me to a letter….

Dear J!nx,

This shirt rocks my socks off in so many geeked-out ways, I’m sure you have a clue – we’ll just let your imagination run free.

HOWEVER.

I ordered a 2XL thinking that I would have a Horrible nightgown. Imagine my dismay when I opened the package and found an XXL. It’s not that I’m disappointed with my shirt – far from it. But.

It’s not a Horrible *nightgown*.

Love, mE

2 comments on Interesting things are not happening here.