Wednesday, July 27, 2011


I have this daily struggle.

Get out of bed.

Get things done.

Do my work.

It is every day that I have this struggle. It has been 5 weeks and 3 days since I started my new medication. I think it is working a little bit, but not nearly as much as I had hoped. I miss the part of Pristiq that helped me to get out of bed in the morning. I hate getting out of bed in the morning.

Do you ever watch the show Hoarders? You know, the one with people who keep trash in their house and think that it is something that should not be thrown away? Sometimes, those people actually get their houses cleaned up, and they often say how much better they feel about life.

I can totally relate.

My house does not qualify for Hoarders, yet. But I have things strewn about. Things that have no real home right now. If Kale tears up a paper towel from my office trash can, which he seems to do weekly, I don't mind if it sits on the basement floor for a week. Eventually, I pick it up and throw it away, and then wonder why I took so long to do it.

We are in a transition stage right now. Workaholic is working much more than usual. Until he is done with his latest project, I feel lost. I have things that don't belong in my dining room in my dining room. I can't wait for him to be finished so I can get my dining room turned into a playroom, as it should be. I can't wait to get the toys out of my living room and into my dining room. I need to get the boxes of books out of my anyplace else.

Every time I get a space cleared, it stays that way for about a day. And then it is cluttered up again. I can't wait until things calm down. I need things to calm down. My mind has a hard time focusing on anything. I can't get my work done. I can't get a decent blog done.

Even though I know I need to get organized, I can't get myself organized. I keep telling myself that it will all be OK soon. In the meantime, days pass, and I hardly even notice. I hate that. I wish I had that fire in my belly to get me motivated, instead I have nothing. All I want to do is hide in my bed all day long.

I struggle.

Part Two...

I would like to update you on the rest of my Day One of Vacation.


Go into Charlie's room, where she is taking a 3 hour nap.

Reel backwards from the smell.

Peek at her, laying so cute in her crib.

With poop smeared all over the sheets, blanket, pacifier, and child.

Yell for help.

Wonder why my children have such a facination with taking off their diapers.

Fortunately for everyone involved, there were no more poop incidents for the rest of the weekend.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Day One of Vacation

I took the next 3 days off of work for vacation. Let's review real quick what I have done so far on day one... (It is 9:09am)
  • Been woken up at 5:30am by Workaholic's alarm on his phone. That goes off every day. And doesn't wake him up.
  • Been woken up at 6am by Workaholic, not sure if it was his alarm or him leaving or what.
  • Been woken up at 6:30am by a whining puppy. Who doesn't understand what vacation and sleeping in are.
  • Gotten up with the puppy. Fed the puppy. Medicated the puppy. Let him outside. Let him inside.
  • Poured a 30lb bag of dog food into a plastic bin for Fonz. Fed and medicated Fonz. Let him outside. Let him back inside, but kept the puppy outside for a few minutes. This is key.
  • Unloaded and reloaded dishwasher. Talked to new K for a couple of minutes. Decided to let the puppy back inside.
  • Almost vomited multiple times when I realized that dear sweet mother-blanking puppy rolled in fresh poop.
  • Bathed dear sweet mother-blanking puppy.
  • Bathed myself.
Needless to say, I think that instead of beginning my day and running a ton of errands in this debilitating heat, I am going to lay down for a while and rest. It is vacation, damn it.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Dear Charlie, What I Have Learned

Dear Charlie,

Since your sister is out of town for a couple of days, I have learned a few things about you.

I've learned that when you are screaming when in the bathttub, it means that you don't want to be there. And you will do anything, I mean anything, to get out of it. I have also learned that you know how to throw yourself over the edge of the tub, which means landing on your head on the ceramic tile floor. 

I've learned that your pain tolerance has increased tenfold in the past couple of months.

I've learned that when you are quiet, it means that you are contemplating just how to get to the bottom of the stairs without going down backwards. Like we have taught you. I watched you ever so slowly lean forward and deliberately move your chubby little legs down to the next step without falling down. I was happy to see that you decided that was NOT the best way to go and went down the next two steps backwards. On your belly. Like we taught you. 

I've learned that you can cross the living room in about 3 seconds flat. To get to the stairs.

I've learned that you know that your sister's room is your sister's room, and you take every opportunity you can to mess with it.

I've learned that you really love ice. And that you will get what you want. (see above regarding the bathtub incident) In fact, your first steps were taken while on a boat ride. You were standing next to me, and you really wanted to get to the ice in the cooler. So you took 2 steps to get there. On a moving boat.

I've learned that you know a heck of a lot more than I think you do. Your babblings mean something. Especially the ma-ma-ma-ma-ma one. That means mama.

I've learned that you are a happy kid. I mean a really. happy. kid. You love sleep and walks and playing in your crib with dirty laundry and using the dogs as step stools. I think you just noticed Sampson today. You love him too.

I've learned that while you and your sister are for sure different kids, you are most definitely my kids. And I love you.

Monday, July 11, 2011


Because I am an awesome mom, I am teaching my daughter the best way to speak. And by teaching I mean that she repeats everything we say. Especially everything I say.

"Actually, mom, I'm going to go play outside now, actually."

"Oh shit."

"Darn it!!"

"Go away, puppy, GO!"

"Why don't we sit down and think about it?"

"No, it's not time for bed (or lunch, or anything mom wants to do). Not yet. Maybe later."

Yes, she is our little parrot. I am scared for what she says when we are not around.