| Home > Journal > This One's So Bad It's Not Even Better Than Nothing, and I'm Okay--I'm Just Tired |
| This One's So Bad It's Not Even Better Than Nothing, and I'm Okay--I'm Just Tired | | Date Created: Jul 24, 2006, 10:15 PM |
Is there something wrong with me if I’d rather watch a rerun of Project Runway (which only comes on about six times a day) than anything else right now? Yes I’ve been busy but tonight I feel as if my mind is more crowded than my day. And instead of addressing any of the clouds of to-do’s and to-decide’s and to-think-about I’m just letting them float around in there and bump into each other and instead of listening to all the thunder and coming up with a plan or even a list, I’m sitting in the dark typing this. And watching Project Runway.
Will has been pretty amazing lately even though I’ve gotten annoyed by some of the things he’s had to neglect. But the yard looks great, the inspection, appraisals, plans for the painters for the new house are underway thanks to him. I thought planning the boys’ pitiful hardly worth calling a party birthday was stressful, but I did so little for it and kept it so simple the most complicated it got was blowing up a baby pool and hunting down matches for the candles. Thank goodness other people took pictures, because I think I took maybe one. We had a great time. It was only family, the baby pool, a bubble machine my mom brought, and cake. This will probably be the last year I can get away with so little! Half of the boys’ presents are still in the back of my car for several cloudy reasons: I just haven’t gotten them out yet, I don’t know where to put them inside the house since we are trying to keep everything uncluttered, and I am holding them back for when I really need them. There’s nothing like a new toy to divert the guys’ attention from whatever they are fighting over or destroying. I turned my back for five minutes this afternoon and when I looked again James had shredded about 15 paint chips. Why? Then they fight over who is a “bad boy” and I have to go into another useless nobody’s a bad boy but it’s a bad thing to do and good boys need to act good lecture. I’m sorry I’m rambling. The clouds just won’t let me concentrate. Or cook. Tonight we had sandwiches for supper. Tomorrow it’s hamburgers. It’s the end of the month and I’m out of money and out of ideas. Last night we went to Wild Wings for supper. As we walked toward the door, James said, “Let’s sit inside where it’s cooler.” Not only does James know best, he must emphasize his infinite knowledge. The new preamble to all his orders is, “Lemme” and while he says it he points at me. “Lemme go outside.” Point point. “Lemme have a cup.” Point point. “A big cup.” The other day I dropped George’s cup and spilled some on the floor. I cleaned it up and then James asked for more in his cup. “Don’t drop THIS cup, Momoe.”
Nobody around here is interested in going to the potty. They don’t want their diaper changed and they deny it whenever they have a stinky one, but anything is better than sitting on the potty and making Momoe’s life easier. We even have bribery—Hershey’s kisses—in full force, but they ain’t biting. John has outgrown their current diaper size but the next size up is the last size and I just don’t want to go there. Another issue crowding up my mind.
Despite all my whining and convoluted thoughts, we really did have a wonderful weekend. A lot of my family was in town and it was great to have everyone together. Wherever the boys were there were family and friends to lend a hand--reading a book, getting a toy out of its package using screwdrivers and wire cutters, or refereeing a fight over the disgusting rubber lizard that grows when it gets wet. Weekends really couldn’t be much fun without the help and I appreciate it so much. I’m too tired tonight, too worried. But happy and excited, I promise. All of it at the same time. I can’t wait to go to sleep and hopefully get these clouds out of my head.
Here are the guys with their cakes. James wanted a fire truck, George a purple cake with a zebra, and John a brown cake with three monkeys. The fire chief actually burned the end of his nose when he blew out the candles...
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