NaBloMoPo. Round 2.

Alright, Readers.

I'm doing it again.

NaBloMoPoFoSho.

The reason I am doing this is that I was inspired by the topic for April: SPROUT.

This month will start with our follow up to the infertility doctor to see if we can sprout something in my babymaker and end with the finalization of my husband adopting the kid, his first sprout. Plus, it is SPRING, the beginning of new things and I'm excited for it.

I chose to list myself under the category of Psychotic Ranting /Anonymous Foaming because I couldn't pick just one and it seemed to be as good as any other. Also, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to be listed under a category that has both the words psychotic and foam.

So, there it is.

Will you be joining me?

Let me know and I'll put you on my list of daily blogs to check and send some comment love your way!

Promises.

Today was a very busy day at work. I didn't even eat lunch.

Of course if I'm being honest with myself, and with you, and with Baby Jesus, the real reason I skipped lunch wasn't because I couldn't take a break. I can take a break. I know when to walk away from The Work. I skipped lunch because the thought of walking more than necessary brought tears to my eyes.

My back. It is sore. My legs. They are achy.

Three days on concrete prepping and installing new floors will do that to you.

Beauty through pain and all that jazz, right?

I managed to power through my day listening to Sugarland and Lady GaGa and Cee Lo Green and just working my little fingers to the bone.

Bony fingers.

I had promised my kid I would take her to Target after work. I was so tired and so sore and so blah that the last thing I wanted to do was to go to a store.

But I promised.

You know when you make a promise to your kid that you will do something and if you don't do it they will just go on and on about how you never keep your promises even though you have always kept your promise to love them and feed them and clothe them and house them and educate them every single day of your life?

Yeah. My kid. She does that.

So sometimes even when I am aching in parts of my body that I didn't know existed and I'm oh so very tired it is just easier to do the thing I promised her so I don't have to hear about how I never keep my promises.

We went to the store.

My resistance was low. My back was screaming. My legs were like cinder blocks.

I said yes to pretty much everything.

I'm a weak, weak woman.

But I keep my promises.

Smooches.



Just a friendly reminder that if you can't find me here on Blog then I'm always sharing things that tickle my funny bone and other random stuffs on Tumblr. I'm also on The Twitter and Flickr. I don't have a Facebook page. At some point a line must be drawn. I drew that line on Zuckerberg. 

We'll see about that.

We have spent the last two days working on our upstairs bathroom floor and downstairs everywhere floor. (And you know what I really mean is that he has been working and I have been taking pictures.)

The kid was at a sleepover last night and didn't get to witness the destruction so when she walked into the house tonight and saw this:



She says:

What have you done?! You destroyed our house! That's it. I can't leave you two alone anymore!

I turn around to tell my husband (who after spending the day removing baseboard and tile and going to the dump and returning the jack hammer was now mowing the lawn) what she said and she tries to stop me! Me! The MOTHER. She chased me outside, yelling over me and covering my mouth with her vocal lesson book so he couldn't hear me properly.

Try to silence me?

Ohnoyoudinnit.

It's on, kid.

On my blog.

Cheers.

House Rules.

Date night continues.





What we thought would take us two days to do slowly stretched into three. Given our schedules and other things like directions that say you must wait three days for it to set it looks like date night has turned into date week.

I'm kind of regretting that I wished that we could leave the toilet in the shower for, you know, multitasking because now it will stay there for at least another week.

Why is it that when I wish for things like a hAirconditioner* it doesn't come true but when I wish for something crappy (pun, intended) it does?

I've been reminded that it is not exactly what I wished for as it is not hooked up to any plumbing therefore I should not, under any circumstances, use it. I started to come up with circumstances in which it might be necessary for me to use it but they were not entertained. Hmphf.

With our bathroom out of commission we had to use the kid's bathroom. It's a quasi Jack and Jill bathroom so there are two sinks and plenty of room for three people to share it.

I started moving our stuff in there and the kid got very indignant. She asked me very not so nicely if we could please use the bathroom downstairs instead. I explained to her (just as not so nicely) that as I've gotten older I can't really hold it very long so if she would volunteer to clean up after me then I would be more than happy to use the downstairs bathroom. Her response? "GROSS MOTHER" and "FINE".

When I went in the first night to brush my teeth I found this note:




I did what every good mother does. I ignored it.

I also used her pimple cream.

And her sink.

On the second night I found that an addendum had been made:




I returned with my own note:




It did not go over well.

We are considering using her bathroom indefinitely just to teach her a lesson.

Don't mess with mama.

Cheers.







*hAirconditioner: a hair dryer for your car. This was my kid's idea because whenever I'm in a rush (read: everyday) and don't have time for drying my hair (because it takes 20-25 minutes to dry properly and I just don't have that kind of time in the morning because I like sleep) I crank up the air conditioning on the highest setting and let it do its magic. The only problem is the back -- so the kid thought that there could be some kind of attachment that you could put on the headrest that would get the back too. Someone get on that. And then give me 20% of the proceeds. You're welcome.

Date Night.

It started with dinner at a local Mexican restaurant. We didn't have any margarrrrrrrritttttaaaaassssss but we indulged in the queso dip. And it was good. 


After dinner we decided to really liven things up -- we went to a flooring store. I know, I know. We are so wild. I'm probably losing readers by the canoe-full because of the wickedness of my ways. My apologies to you gentle souls. 


Warning: it only gets more wild. Are you sure you are ready for it?


We followed that by going to another one. (rhymes with flows)


And after that?


You guessed it. 


We went to one more. (rhymes with foam beepo)


Beepo is a word. Look it up. Or don't. I actually prefer that you don't. I'm okay with being wrong. I just don't like to be told that I'm wrong.


And now ...


Now ... it's about to get scandalous.


Time to break out the trail mix, kids. 


That's right.


We're doing it.


We're pulling up the existing flooring.


Of course by "we" I mean "he".


Because I'll just get in the way.


Also, I don't like to get dirty.


Unless it doesn't involve real dirt. (Sorry Mom and Dad)


But that's for later. Maybe. Maybe not.


Probably not.


And we're totally okay with that.


Because that was last night. (Mom, Dad, why are you still reading this?!) 


Also, and most importantly, this new flooring will bring about the END of the HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD CARPET.


(That's what she said.)


(No, really. That's what she said.)


CARPET. IN A BATHROOM.


WHO PUTS CARPET IN THE BATHROOM?!?


Cheap home builders, that's who.

This. Today. Probably.

Smörgåsbord. That's what this is.

Well, faithful readers, it's been a week since we last visited and I did not hold up my end of the bargain. Blog was ignored. Poor Blog. But Blog can blame Real Work, who kicked me in my Real Ass this week.  By about 9:04 each morning I was ready for a nap.

I am feeling better. My super antibiotic (which was discovered on a sewage drain, natch) did its job and killed every germ in my body.

Even the good ones.

My poor stomach and...well...you know.

---

The kid had a rough week. Stress and anxiety brought on by having to try to make up the OMFG F she received along with some stupid, mean, dumb bullies brought on her abdominal migraines again. And, seriously, parents -- your kids using homophobic slurs? NOT GOOD. Using them incorrectly? JUST SAD.

We're looking into other options for schools -- something that embraces kids who are different. I think I found the perfect school but they require uniforms. Specifically, skirts. Required for the ladies. And my kid? The one who owns 8 pairs of jeans, all the same style and color, (Boyfriend Jeans from AE), because anything else feels like tiny elves are stabbing her with needles all over her legs? Not thrilled.

---

I'm having a HSG on Tuesday. I am not looking forward to the cramping. I am looking forward to the results.

---

I took this picture on my iPhone 3GS this morning at a local garden.


Now I'm off to enjoy the rest of my weekend. Hope you do the same.

Cheers!

Look at Post, Readers!

I have been sick all week.

Sore throat. Weird pain on my left side. Headache. Dizziness. Fatigue.

I know, I know. What the hell am I complaining about? It sounds like a regular Wednesday night at Sober Valley Lodge. What can I say? I'm old. I don't have Adonis DNA. And I'd really just like the sickness that has been upon our house for three weeks to get the hell out. And to take the goddesses with it.

Needless to say, I did not go to Real Work at all (THANK BABY JESUS for paid sick time and company provided health insurance). Unfortunately, as of the writing of this post, I am still miserable. And using a lot of commas. I get a different diagnosis every time I go (last night's urgent care doctor told me that I had strep (without testing me) and that I should be vegan and all of my problems would go away. Until then, antibiotics and motrin (pshaw) for weird, unexplainable pain).

I think I will find myself back at the doctor's office tomorrow because the kid has this weird bite thing on her arm that is not getting better and is probably something horrible like a staph infection that we could have been curing this entire time if I had just brought her in with me one of the eleventy-billion times I went in this week.

I think I might be "uh...rhymes with spinning, duh" at this whole motherhood thing.

I did get some things accomplished this week.

I (obviously) watched every interview that Charlie Sheen blessed upon us.

I re-watched all three seasons of Arrested Development which has replaced The Golden Girls as my go-to sickness TV series. I am in love with Buster "I learned it in Army" and Gob "Look at Banner, Michael!". I really hope if they make that movie it is just as confusing and unrelatable as the series or else it will totally blow (a nod to Tobias, natch).

I also managed to get dressed and drag myself (along with my husband) over to my kid's school to sort out this whole "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN SHE GOT AN 'F'" thing with the school. The teacher took responsibility for not alerting us three months ago that she was doing poorly (and is going to let her do make up work to get her grade changed) and the kid understands that we expect her to do her best at all times. If we had known that she was half-assing it then we might have motivated her with things like two hour tutoring sessions every day. And no TV. Or food. Just water. We're not complete assholes, people. Geesh.

It has been a rough few weeks in the hizzouse so we treated the kid (yes, I realize she just got an F but she needed a bit of break from sickness and school) to a movie. We saw Rango. Don't waste your money, folks. Any movie that expects me to believe that tiny desert creatures have fully automatic weapons but does not have real golf balls is too far fetched, even for me, a true believer in Hogwarts.

On the fertility front there is nothing new to report. All of our blood and "other" tests that I am not allowed to talk about have been done. We're just waiting for good old Aunt Flow so that I can get my HGS or TBS or NBC or whatever the hell it is scheduled (it's the test that they inject dye into my uterus and take pictures to make sure there is no blockage which sounds like a raucous good time. Try not to be jealous. I'm sure I can score you an invite next time).

Right now I'm psyching myself up to watch Food, Inc. because the urgent care doctor, who may have been a little fanatical about vegan diets but was actually really helpful, said it would really change our mind about what we put in our bodies.

That's it.

I hope you enjoyed reading Post as much as I enjoyed writing it.

I'm going to try to get back on a more regular schedule so that Blog doesn't seem so neglected.

Cheers and all that.

Jazz.