Okay. For those leaving comments (i.e. demands) on my Facebook, here I am. Blogging. Happy now?? My bathroom needs scrubbed, my kitchen floors need mopped, my 14 month old is currently running around naked from the waist down, but here I am.
I’m not even sure if an excuse would help but the only reason for my blogcation is this: I.don’t.have.time. Seriously. Most of the time I feel like my mind is one big cluster fuck. My house looks like Toys R’ Us threw up in it, the kids have been sick and demanding, work wears me out… I go from 6am to 10pm. And I’m tired. Thanks to a clogged drain, my washer is currently out of commission and until I can remember to call Dick Van Dyke Appliance World during normal business hours, I’ve been loading up clothes and taking them either to the ex’s or my mom’s to wash. Neither is too pumped about it and I can say I’m not either. As we speak, I have a whole basket full of wet clothing sitting in my mother’s laundry room that I need to go get and bring home to dry. Apparently she was none too pleased to return from their Nashville trip and find my clothes in her machine. Rather than offer to dry them though, I was rudely informed she throwing them “all in a God damned pile!”. Gee, thanks. Note to self: Call the repairman tomorrow.
The past week my best friend and her kids have been here staying with me. She’s leaving tomorrow and I have to say I’m pretty bummed out to be losing my temporary roommate. Seeing her youngest son – who was born 2.5 weeks after Bug – really reaffirms my belief that my child is N-U-T-S. The boy has no fear. Currently he’s sporting the remnants of a fat lip, as well as four bruises on his forehead. A stairwell? Ah hell, I’ll run down them! An opening in the playground equipment? I’ll fling myself off it! Front door that won’t open? Maybe banging my head against it will do something! Running down the hill in the front yard, tripping, and biffing the concrete?? Oh well! I swear I’m going to get the kid a helmet before he winds up retarded by his 2nd birthday.
Don’t believe that all hell is breaking loose in my house? Look at this picture:
This is what happens when you leave cupcakes cooling on your oven and then leave the room to go change a diaper.
I can’t win. I try to clean one thing and some tiny terror of a tot is right behind me messing up something else.
And as if to illustrate my point even further, please took at what my precious, precious offspring snuck off behind the couch to do while I wrote this post….
That’s Desitin. When I asked her what the hell she was doing (and yeah, I used that exact phrase, the situation definitely warranted it), she replied, “I got a boo boo on my hoo hoo!” Apparently her make believe diaper rash required a full body application.
And as for her brother, he wasn’t up to anything much better:
Drug out shoes from the shoebox, a box that needs to be shipped, and my personal favorite, rifled through the disaster that has become my purse. All while pantsless. Did you think I was lying about that earlier???