I have a lot going on lately and a lot of different things requiring my attention. I am going to take a little blog vacation for a bit. I’ll still be on twitter, and one day I will post back on here and you will see it in your rss reader. It may be a week or two, not really sure. Until then!

The other night I observed… an incident. We were at a function and Dgirl (who needs a new name) had to go to the potty. On the way to the potty we passed a boy about 10 years old that was sobbing. Sobbing. I assumed that he was injured, but there was an adult getting his mother so we continued on our merry way. Not long after we got into the restroom, the mother brought the 10 year old boy into the restroom. (Which … ??) Still assuming he was injured, I was just glad she was taking care of his problem.

But then… oh my, oh my. The deep, gulping sobs continued and I here “But.I.Want.One.Now.everybody.else.has.one.”

Mom: “Baby, I will get you one, but they are out. I can not get it tonight, I will get it in the morning.”

Now, let me be clear about my purpose in writing this. It is possible that this child has emotional issues I don’t know about, though I know them slightly and don’t think so. If that is the case, obviously that is a different situation. If not? WTF? And more than WTF…. Will I do that? Will I be that parent consoling a sobbing 10 year old? I would like to think I would drag his little ass to the car and take him home… but will I? I say I will.
A friend of mine says punishment isn’t punishment unless the whole family suffers. In other words, mom would have to put her beer down and everyone would leave the game, all because Junior was being a dipshit. I know that Mari is a champ at this, and I know that so far I am a champ at THREATENING and not always following through. I don’t follow through because it means I have to LEAVE Target/BirthdayParty/Friends House. In other words… I am not willing to punish myself. I am getting better though, as the kids get older I think it is more important to prevent them from being the dipshit kid in the bathroom that some other mom is blogging about.

I never finished the book “Men are from Mars and Women from Venus” or whatever the heck its called, but I read enough to get the gist of it.

One of my biggest problems in this world is that I sweat the small stuff.  I can’t get unpissed off at people that are annoying me.  I can’t blow off a negative phone conversation.  I can’t shake the bad taste in my mouth after a negative email.  Little things can totally throw my entire day off.  Tonight I checked my email and had a slightly nastygram on something that is absurd.  Logically, I know it is in no way my problem nor is it my fault.  Yet, it threw off the rest of my night.  I will fester and stew over it and get myself more pissed off.  It seems to me that men are better at putting petty shit aside and going about their day.

How can I get some more of that?

Those of you that know me also know that I have a friend who has a child that has been battling cancer her entire life.  For a long while she was in remission.   Then, just as suddenly as it appeared the first time, it returned.  This battle has not been as easy, for a number of reasons.  One, her system is weakened from the first battle.  Two, she is older.   She is much more aware of pain, life, friends, her own mortality.

For months we have wondered what exactly is going on in her body, what exactly the updates mean.  I have wondered what to say, what to ask, how to say what needs to be said.

Although somewhere deep down inside I knew things were bad, I allowed myself to pretend she was fine.  I never really believed that she would lose her battle with cancer.  I never really believed the disease was unbeatable.

Unfortunately it appears that it may be unbeatable.  Please send prayers to my friends daughter, she needs them.  Curse neuroblastoma.  Its a bitch.

I seem to have been complaining a lot lately, mainly about my job. Not the physical, actual job I have, I love the place I work and the people I work with. I just have one of those professions that seems to attempt to suck my soul out at times. Late hours, demanding tasks. Like a jealous mistress, my job calls me when I don’t want it to call. She slips into my thoughts when I want her to back away. And yet… I can’t give it up.
Going to he gym and working out was the first change that I wanted to make. The second is to get more organized and on task. That one is actually going to be more difficult than the first. I want to be ready by September though so that I can have some time to get the kids ready for school without a hassle. I really need a “staycation.” A vacation at my house, while my children go to daycare. I need to go through their clothes, sort through their toys, pack stuff to sell at the garage sale, etc.
I want to rearrange my kitchen cabinets, the entertainment center, my closet.
While I feel that I have fairly decent balance between work and home, it is all of the little things that I can’t get done that are driving me crazy. Mr. D somehow floats through overlooking the little things. With me they grate and grate and grate until I am half crazed with the sound. When do those things get done? When do people find the time to do those things, whether you work or stay home?

(ALSO!! Get your entries into the cellunot contest to me! Deciding this weekend with my out of town friend who has no idea what her task will be!)

I went to the doctor on Monday and he asked what I was doing to lose weight.  My answer?  “Starvation and Torture.”  It is that easy!

He thought that was funny.

Tonight began a new form of torture, a weight lifting class for women.  I was smart enough to go with a friend and we laughed each other through the process.  Or, I should say… she laughed at ME through the process.  Especially the part where I couldn’t push up the 20 pound bar to save my life and the trainer had to lift it for me.  Sigh.

When we left class, I tried to call her to recap what we had been through.  Unfortunately, however, my arms could not even hold up the weight of the cell phone.  Sad, sad, sad.

I am addicted to CVS. No, not some new-fangled drug, but the drug store itself. I have no idea WHY I love CVS so much. I love extra-bucks and the extra care card. I get a thrill out of beating the system with my million coupons. Yesterday, my problem was brought to light when little D and I checked the mail. There were two gift boxes waiting for me, courtesy of CVS. “Look, mama! Someone must really like you!” Mr. D snorted so hard I worried his brain was in his lungs.

I went this morning for some Ativert. I left with all kinds of new things. I swear CVS is the new Target in my life, also known as the hundred dollar store.

I woke up Saturday morning to a world that was spinning, literally.  The entire world was revolving around me at 90 miles per hour.  I even gave putting one foot on the floor the old college try, but it didn’t help.  The fast spinning eventually stopped, but I have been dizzy ever since.  I dragged myself to the doctor today and fortunately what I have should disappear very soon.  He offered me a shot that would help, but said he couldn’t give it to me “because it would make my birth control not work.”

Are you kidding me man?  I have been spinning since Saturday!  That is birth control enough, GIVE ME THE SHOT.

So with a full shot of steroids I should be able to clean my house, repack my gym bag, and get ready to hit the gym again tomorrow…. right?

Ha.

As much as I love vacation, I am so HAPPY TO BE HOME.  My house.  My blue chair.  My bed.  My bathroom.  Mine, mine, mine!

I am also happy it meant getting the kids back on schedule, back to bed at a normal hour.  Tomorrow will probably SUCK as we get back on schedule, but a schedule is such a lovely thing.

I realized this vacation that as nice as it is to have lots of hands to help… they don’t actually HELP all that much.  I couldn’t take my eyes off the kids even if there were three other adults present, because those adults were not monitoring them.  Mr. D and I got about 5 minutes alone together, when we asked his parents to watch the kids while we ran to the Piggly Wiggly.  We actually giggled and held hands on the way to the grocery store like we had escaped study hall.

We came home to a clean house and a freshly painted master bedroom.  I am so giddy with joy at that being done, I don’t know what to do with myself.  I celebrated the return home with a trip to CVS and Aldi.  I managed to save 35.11 at CVS with my masterful use of coupons and my extra care card.  Even the manager was proud.  Yes, that makes me officially lame, in case you didn’t realize it before.

(Also, is it just me or is the internet dead?)

I realize that I am a little late in wishing you a happy fourth.  I enjoyed the day as every good Southerner should, on a sandbar surrounded by friends and family as well as total drunken strangers and three labrador retrievers.

What?  You didn’t do the same thing?  Whatever you are doing, I hope it was happy and a celebration.  We all deserve it!!