Hard to do

Things that are hard to do when you are right handed and wearing a brace on your right hand that prevents any movement at the wrist:

Cook.
Do pretty much anything in the kitchen.
Pick up heavy things.
Pour a cup of coffee.
Fold sheets.
Go to the bathroom. 
Hold a baby.
Hold a baby who is wearing stockings because the velcro from the brace attaches to the stockings.

Plenty of other things that are challenging.
But, that's enough whining.

It's Monday.
It's raining.
My kids are on fall break.
I'm not.
The end.

move it

Current peeve:

My across the street neighbors and their cars.

They park zero cars in their garage, one car on their driveway and three cars on the street.

And usually one of the kids' cars on the street is right at the end of my driveway so it makes it a little challenging when I back out.  I have to crrrrrrrrankkkkkkkk it crank it crank it. And then ooooootch on over.

Grrrrr.

If the kid would just park it a few inches to the east.  Or a few inches to the west.  That would be delightful.  Thank you.

Or actually if you would just clean out your garage and park two cars in there and the other two on the driveway that would be even more awesome.

But I'll settle for a few inches to the east. 

I know, I should just zip it.

So I'll do that.  And continue to crrrrrrrrankkkkkkkk and ooooootch. 

holdin' on

This is that time of year where we just hang on for dear life and hope we can finish all this wake up early, make the lunchbox, do the homework, go go go school stuff.

Everybody is hanging on.

Major tests in everything for Jordan this week.   I've been quizzing Jordan this week on all her study guides.   All sorts of stuff.   A WWI study guide. Or was it WWII?  I can't remember.  Becasue it's history.  And I'm allergic to history.   And French 2, which is always lots of fun because I don't speak French.  And last night some sort of poety iambic pentameter thing.  

Tired.  Tired.  Tired. 

Everything is hanging on.

Including that box of nubby crayons.

And the binders with their dangly edges.

And the uniform khaki pants with holes in their knees.

Intensity and pace are high.

Motivation and energy levels are low.

Just a few more days.

Hold on.

Hot.

Thermostat wars.  Office probs

One thermostat is in the central file room. And it controls one side of the hallway.

H likes to set this on 80.  EIGHTY.  Really? 

The other thermostat is in D's office.  And it controls the other side of the hallway - which is the side my office is on. 

Well, D also likes things a bit ... shall we say ... toasty.  And he likes to set the thermostat on 77.  One reason for this is because he has a self-proclaimed issue with the numbers 4 and 7.  Thus, the 77. 

Personally, I think 77 is just a tad too warm.    I think he also needs some iron in his diet.  Or a coat for his office.

72 is my preference.

But, in an effort for office peace and to appease D and his number hang ups, I set it on 74. 

And then things cool down a little bit for a little bit.   And I am happy.

And then, before I know it, D has pushed it back up to 77.  And, it starts heating up again.   And I am hot and irritable.

And, H has pushed the other thermostat back up to 78. Sometimes 80.  EIGHTY.

Should I really have sweat forming on my brow while I just sit at my desk and TYPE?  I think not.

Humph.

I know I probably sound like the overweight middle age woman "IT'S HOT IN HERE!!!"

But, for the love, 77 is too hot.

Yesterday I figured I'd just start taking my clothes off and then they would all be like My eyes! My eyes!  Whoaaaaa OK already let's turn the air down. 

But I figured a simpler solution would be better received.  So yesterday I just went bought a little fan for my desk.   And it's described as the "The Vornado flippi:  the personal circulator with personality"  Kind of like me...    It's cute and it's little and it's red.  I love him. 

The end.

Ouch and a couch.

I woke up this morning with a painful pinchy thing going on in my neck.

It's making my right arm and hand all tingly and numb. That can't be good. Because I pretty much use my right arm during the day. Quite a bit actually.

I'm pretty sure I need a massage.

And some new patio furniture.

Which has nothing to do with anything.

Except the fact that I want some new patio furniture.

Specifically a couch.

I tried to rearrange the existing ugly green table and chairs. And it kind of works. Kind of. Except it really still really looks like an ugly green table and chairs. Just moved around in a different spot.

Anyway, back to the pain in my neck...

It hurts.

And my hand is tingly.

Oh, I already said that?

Then clearly this pain is radiating to my brain.

Maybe I should call in sore today. And sit outside on my non-existent couch.

Suppah time

It was nice last week when it was just me and Coop and I didn't have to cook real dinner. We had frozen pizza and fish sticks and corn dogs. Don't judge. It was "vacation". And I was lazy.

And, since I was a total basketball sloth I didn't even go to the grocery over the weekend. Which isn't a bad thing. Unless you factor in the fact that we had been out of town the last three weekends in a row. So there hasn't been many visits to the ol' grocry store lately.

And that means not a lot of food stuffs.

So creativity must now abound for dinner ideas.

Sometimes I really hate coming up with ideas for dinner.

And sometimes I really REALLY hate COOKING dinner.

I just want to throw out a box of cereal and holler, "DINNER!"

I had no idea what to fix last night. Nor, motivation to do anything about it.

So I defaulted to the ol' standby.

Breakfast.

I fixed the fancy standby -- eggs, grits, biscuits, sausage.

As opposed to the slacker standby -- pancakes.

Which we'll probably have tonight...

What are you fixing these days?

Wanna' come over and fix some for us?

Mehhhhhh.....

Feeling so meh this week. Mehhhhhhh.....

Life's sadness has brought me down.

Our current pace has worn me out.

These hormones have messed me up.

Is it wrong to just want to stay in my cozy bed with my iBaby and my kindle and my big fluffy pillows and a box of cheez-its?

Next week brings a few days of rest. Relief from the pace and the hormones.

The sadness? Not so much.

More coffee for me right now. That's a good place to start.

Full Moon

How was your day, dear?

This is how yesterday played out for me.

I played Twinkle Twinkle Little Star with nine other people in front of ninety people.

I found out my boss has been eating Milk Bone dog biscuits on a regular basis since he was a kid. Aren't there TV shows about stuff like that?

I got a text from Jordan that went something like this, "Ummm, don't freak out, but Cooper just ran away."

Yes, he ran away.

He was mad at my mother-in-law for not buying him some fake blood.

Yes, it was for wrestling.

They found him.

He didn't get far.

He left a note for Jordan that said, "I'm running away. I'm not treated fairly. Love you, Cooper."

Later when I asked him how he thought I felt when I heard he ran away, he said, "Sad, mad, and famished?" Bonus points for using a vocabulary word.

Connie was involved in a hit and run. SHE'S FINE.

I was on the phone with her when it happened. A little damage to her car. But apparently nothing like the damage that the other guy had. There was a witness who tole her the other guy's mirror was ripped off and his car all messed up. Serves him right. Jerk. As a good junior deputy, she got his tag. He'll be sorry about all that. You can't just ram a car and drive off. Even if it is a green mini van.

The Captain went to wait with her while the appropriate officers made the scene.

Told Cooper he had to go with me to take Jordan to volleyball.

Fit. Pitch.

Told him to grab a bowl of soup before we go.

Another fit pitched because I was making him eat "YUCKY" soup.

Fine.

Reminded Cooper he had a science test to study for.

Was informed that he didn't care and school is stupid.

Tried to pitch another fit.

Kibosh.

He had a major case of the can't help its yesterday.

Took Jordan to practice and watched her try to push through the pain in her thumb.

After talking with the coach, I ran up to the store and got a brace that she could play in. While I was waiting in the check out line, I was pretty sure the guy in front of me had a gun in his pocket and was about to rob the place.

It wasn't a gun.

He didn't rob the place.

He just bought some cigarettes.

Whew.

Original plans for last night were to pack for this weekend's volleyball tourney, do laundry, change sheets and all that stuff.

Jordan asked me to stay with her at practice.

So I did.

Then on the way home, I tried to help her sort through rollercoaster emotions. I clearly didn't so a very good job with that. Sigh....

And then our route home was blocked off by 343741209 police cars.

So we took a longer route home.

And I got home at 10:30 and found the Captain had left the pot of delicious soup out for us to eat. But we weren't hungry for delicious soup at 10:30. So I had to wash the pot of delicious soup at 10:30.

Final: Thursday 27 Angie 0

Blah.

Yeah, ok ok. I didn't post yesterday.

I'm sure you haven't slept a wink just waiting for another brilliant and entertaining post from me.

Sorry to disappoint.

This week I've just kind of been ... here.

Kind of a little weary.

Just kind of tired of doing, and thinking, and being.

I'm not sad. Or upset. Or depressed. Or any of that.

I'm just blah.

Doing all the STUFF.

Washing and buying and cooking and cleaning and driving and talking and getting and arranging and figuring out and managing and tutoring and working and deciding and coordinating and communicating. The stuff. Doing all the stuff.

And it's not that I'm not thankful or happy or love my life or my family or my job or my season in life or my responsibilities. That's not it.

Maybe a pedicure will make me feel better.

Or some cheese dip.

Or an extended visit to the crazy farm.

Oh you know what scares me? I just heard on the news about a person who was, let's say, "troubled". And "officials want to talk to his relatives about his mental state".

Eeeeek.

(Connie, if I ever become "troubled", please delete this blog and my twitter immediately.)

Anyhoo, this is a post about nothing.

I guess I'm whining. But it's my blog, so I can whine if I want to.

Me and my blah self are going to find some more coffee.

Peace out.

I'll whine while you comment.

I'm tired.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I can hear all of you unsubscribing to this blog.

How many times in a row can I post "I'm tired." Apparently a lot.

The short story is, I had a meeting last night AFTER the volleyball game.

And I got home at 10:45 pm. And since I get up at 4:00 am, that's just not much sleep. And if you'll recall we got home Monday night about the same time the chickens were crowing.

Wait, do chickens crow? Or is that roosters? Oh dear.... Who cares ... But really, who says cockadoodledoo when the sun comes up? Roosters, I think.

Mercy. I'm tired. And stupid.

Plus, I'm fighting a cold. *achoo*

Awesome.

So, today I have nothing to say that is not of the whining variety. I'm sorry about that. But I'm so tired, my eyelashes hurt.

So, the job or writing today's post is on your shoulders.

Let me hear from you.

Tell me something.

Anything.

Really. Just say something. What you had for dinner last night. What the weather's like where you live. Who you're rooting for this weekend on the gridiron. Or just say hi.

Just say something.

Ready? Go.

In search of balance

I really have nothing to say today.

Other than it's pretty hot.

And it's way too early in the not even officially summer yet to be this hot. We are already knocking on the door of 100 degree highs. No likey.

And I'm still seeking balance in my Mom-life and my work-life. And I know you are all sick of hearing about that. So I'm not going to even go into it.

But I'll just say it's very hard to keep all that rolling right now.

And it's day four of summer.

And I'm already worn out from trying to make it work.

And I drove 470 miles roundtrip yesterday. To go see Bingmama. In Illinois. She buries her dad today. Which is not related to any of this. And I'm not real excited about driving anywhere this morning because I'm slightly wearly.... But I love Bingmama. And my heart hurts for her.

Work is so.....work. It's hard right now. It's different. And frustrating. And very challenging mentally and emotionally. Plus the biggest bummer to that work thing is they want me to actually BE there. Which is somewhat conflicting with the two smaller humans who want me to be home. And who need me to drive them to practice, dental appointments, camp, parties, and other various and sundry social events. But I am making it work. Killing myself trying to do it, but am making it work. Maybe it's always like this at the beginning of the summer - trying to settle into a "not" routine. I can't remember.

Oh wait - I wasn't going to go into all this. Sorry. What a buzz kill this blog has been lately. And did I actually put a picture of a pork roast on here yesterday? Seriously..... I'm sorry people. I promise I'm climbing out of this whatever I've been in. Life Pit. Whatever... It's just real life for me right now. Parenting. Death of several friends. Working. Emotions. Lots of emotions. Throw some hormones in there for good measure too - that's always fun. It's just life. LIFE.

In other news, did I tell you it's hot?

Oh, and Cooper is on episode 83 of Mindfreak. And he just chopped some guy's head off. And made an elephant disappear. Impressive.

Peace out people. Stay cool.

Summer + Job - Coping Skills = Hard

So last night I was trying to remember what I had blogged about that morning. Just couldn't remember. So I headed over here to the ol' blog and found that I didn't even blog at all. Huh? What on earth? Who knows what I was thinking - or not thinking - yesterday morning.

Guess I've finally blown a fuse in the ol' brain. It can only handle so much before it just shorts out.

Not gonna' lie....life has kind of kicked me hard lately.

Just stuff. Lots of different stuff. Some of it big. And some of it not so big. Some of it important. Some of it not so important. Some of it legitimate. Some of it ridiculous.

But when you add it all up together, it erodes the coping skills.

And apparently the brain.

But summer is here.

Which really doesn't mean much to the ol' Work Outside the Home Mom.

It makes it easier. And harder. At the same time.

No bedtime, no projects, no lunchbox, no routine.

But there are church activities, social events, sports practices, and just regular ol' things happening at home. Which is all pretty hard to manage and be a part of from my office.

Oh, and the guilt. That's always nice. I just loooooove the guilt of not being a part of my kids' summer. Nice.

In summary, summer is hard on the working mom.

Oh well. It will all work out and be just fine. It has every other summer. So I'm sure this one will be no different.

And I will eventually get a grip.

In the meantime, I just found out today is not Friday.

Awesome.

A cat video. It's all I got.

So yesterday was just a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

No point getting into it other than I got my personal and professional feelings hurt. More than once.

I got drenched driving all over town in the monsoons.

I got black hair color all over my light gray sweater when I went to get my hair cut. And I don't even color my hair.

And lots of other stuff that really doesn't matter.

It was just stinky.

Oh well.

Pity, party of one!

So, today is a new day. Yes. A new day.

And I overslept this morning. Great.

So, not much blog for you today.

Other than this.

Toonces, the Driving Cat.

Please tell me you are old enough to remember this.

In. Som. Nia.

So apparently my body now thinks it's hilarious to wake up around 1:30 or so and be wide stinking awake until about 3:30.

Sometimes I just wake up for no reason. Sometimes Captain the Snoring Warthog wakes me up. Lately things like tornado sirens and thunder wake me up.

This whole "not sleeping at night" thing is problematic for several reasons.

First of all, sleeping through the night just seems like the normal thing to do. I've been doing it since I was about eight weeks old.

I get up at 4am every day. So falling asleep at 3:30 really isn't that much of a victory.

It makes me verrrrrry sleepy the next day if I've been up half the stupid night. I mean, the boss is really not a fan of the mid-day nap.

Usually, once I wake up, I'll head on over to the couch. Because even if Captain the Snoring Warthog hasn't woken me up, chances are he's tearing it up pretty good anyway and that keeps me awake. Or the shower dripping. Or the clock ticking. Or the fan clicking.

The last two nights I've just slept on the couch from the get-go. Mainly because the Captain now has some sort of cooties. So I have banished him and his germy self to the bedroom. With a good healthy spray of Lysol. *ccchhhhh ccchhhhh* If he looks at me -- or exhales -- I spray him. *cccccchhhhhhhhhh*

So if anybody else can't sleep or is just a night owl, hit me up sometime.

I'll be hanging out on the couch playing Words with Friends and catching up on Twitter.

Have a good day people. More rain headed our way today. Lovely.

Expiring

So my drivers license may or may not expire this Friday.

And apparently the Drivers License People won't let me do this through the mail and they really want me to come and get a new picture made. I even tried to renew on line, but they politely said they were sorry and my request could not be completed online. Personally, I don't think they were really sorry.

I also tried to call the Drivers License People and assure them I was perfectly fine with my old picture. Even though it is ten years old. And I'm wearing my hair a little different now. And have gained a bit of weight. And am wearing an ugly, out of style jacket. And a really ugly necklace. You can totally still tell it's me. It's fine. Really. But there is apparently no way to get to talk with a real live person. Because after I listened to the whole recorded spiel about hours and locations and all that blah blah blah stuff, the recorded voice then said "Thank you. Good bye." And disconnected. Rude.

So I asked the Captain just how serious those police folk took that whole expired drivers license thing.

That's when he gave me The Look.

You know the one - the one where he is wishing he had never asked me out on that second date...

After taking a deep breath, he assured me that yes, the police take that "whole expired drivers license thing" pretty serious.

And apparently an expired drivers license is not like an expired gallon of milk.

Because when I asked that -- if the nice police folk would give me a day or two on either side of my expiration date like a gallon of milk -- he firmly said no.

Not that we drink milk after the expiration date - because we don't. In fact, Cooper is OBSESSED with the expiration date on milk. And sometimes, out of the blue, he will say, "Only three more days before our milk expires."

Anyway, back to the drivers license thing....

When I asked the Captain what the worst possible case scenario would be if I waited until early next week, he said something about if I did get pulled over, I would be issued a misdemeanor citation - which I didn't think was too bad since he used the word citation and all - but then he said something about reporting for booking and processing. BOOKING AND PROCESSING?!? Just because I didn't go get a new picture for my drivers license? Ri-dic. Booking and processing... Humph.

So I guess I better high tail it over to the drivers license place. And you know none of those locations are even the slightest bit convenient. Awesome.

And shoot, here I am about to have to get my picture made - which is apparently pretty darn important - and I totally need a haircut. And a brow wax.

Blah.

Steer Clear.

If you don't care about college football or don't want to read my pouty, fit-pitching rant of a post, then just click on out of here and check back with me tomorrow.


So not only did I stay up until 11:30 last night --

ELEVEN THIRTY --

I also watched the painfulest of painful Arkansas games.

Yeah, the one they LOST.

Because they couldn't HOLDONTOTHESTUPIDBALL.

Seriously. The Hogs dropped more balls than Times Square on New Year's Eve.

And after getting beat like a drum in the first half, they rallied in the second half. And there was a glimmer of a chance of a Hog win.

And then, with a minute left on the clock, blocked a punt and the win was in plain view. Unfortunately, the big ol' defensive lineman was NOT in plain view and he intercepted the ball at the 17 yard line. And that's when I put a blanket over my head and started crying like a baby.

I barely survived that game. The ups and downs and ups and downs and downs and downs of that game just about did me in. Seriously. Did me in. Like 'breathe in a paper bag' did me in.

The transcript of Tweets and texts between me and Connie and Bingmama goes something like this:

Mercy.

Oh mercy.

Barf.

Wowowowowowow.

ITSJUSTAGAME. ITSJUSTAGAME. ITSJUSTAGAME.

Yowie.

Just peed in my pants.

I'm a wreck.

Oh my dear biscuits and gravy.


And don't even get me started that five of the OSU players should not have even been playing. Hope they write a thank you note to the NCAA governing board today. Because we all know that it is truly effective discipline when you punish someone nine months after discovering their transgression. Grrrrrrrrrrrr. Then dude gets up there on the podium and starts whining like a cry-baby cause his foot hurt. Wah wah wah. Oh shut up and go sell your Sugar Bowl ring for another tattoo. There goes my blood pressure again. Oh well. Cheaters never win. Except for last night. *sniff*

So, for those of you keeping score at home.....

My Hogs lost.

In ugly, rollercoaster, pass the blood pressure meds fashion.

And I only got four and a half hours of sleep.

So today I'm sporting big ol' bags under my eyes. Which go nicely with my pouty, mad, tired self.

Gonna' be an ugly day. In more ways than one.

Y'all just better hope that my Tigers win the basketball game tonight....

I'm going to take a nerve pill. And check eBay for a Sugar Bowl ring.

Peace out.

The one where I complain about the heat. Again.

Me: Nip it.
(photo of toilet paper attached to the email)

The Weatherman: Once again...Don't hate the player. Hate the game.

Me: Excessive heat makes me cranky and makes me sweat on parts of my body that shouldn't even sweat and it makes my fingers swell and it does wonky things to my hair. Grrrrrrr. Seriously. I'll scream if you use the words "one hundred" again.

The Weatherman: Cue the scream.

Me: And I'm sick of your big blue H!

The Weatherman: So the heat is turning that Pollyanna attitude of yours into Sour Sally.

Me: It is ridiculous. The end.



Mercy people.

Somebody bring me a popsicle.

Peace out.

The heat is on.

When the weather gets wonky, I am forced to harrass my friend and favorite weatherman.....

Me: Seriously. The heat. Do something.

Him: Working on it. Should have a fix by October.

Me: And please don't use the words "One Hundred". Oh - and nothing that ends in "-teen". That should cover it. Thanks.

Him: Got it.


That's when I caught his 5:00 pm forecast.

And saw this.

So I was forced to send yet ANOTHER email....

Me: Ummmmm, EXCUSE ME.... I just saw your forecast. Cut it out. Or I'll roll your yard.

Him: The breeze from the toilet paper flying through the air will be nice.

Me: (cue sarcastic mocking voice): The breeze from the toilet paper flying through the air will be nice.

Grrrrrrrr.

I told Connie I was tired of all this one hundred degree nonsense and I was going to roll The Weatherman's yard. She said it was too hot outside and wouldn't come with me.

With a high today of 102 and a heat index of 640 (OK, OK, that's a bit of an exaggeration. I get sassy when I'm hot. The heat index today is actually closer to 120), I'm forced to think about colder times. Like this.

Happy day people. May air conditioners and ice cream abound.

Closed

Dear Friends --

In case you were planning to go to the brand new sporting goods store up the road to buy volleyball kneepads, they don't open until next Friday, August 6. So don't do that. Do NOT spend your lunch break driving over there. And parking. And walking up to the doors. In the muggy, hot July heat. Cause the doors are locked. And won't open. And there is a teeeeny tiny sign that says "Opening August 6" on the door. No big banner on the front of the building. No big sign. Just one little teeny tiny sign. That's it. So, in case you were going to go to that sporting goods store and buy some volleyball kneepads, don't do it. Cause they are NOT OPEN. Not. Open. So don't do it.

You're welcome.

Now go out there and have a nice day.

Thinkin' about the past

Another day. Another heat advisory.

Blah blah blah.

I will think of cooler times. Colder days.

Six months ago.

When I was freezing my patootie off.

In other news, Jordan comes home today! Hooray!


And finally, please continue to pray for Nick. They have set up a Caring Bridge site and you can check it out right here. There is also a "Praying for Nick Brumfield" group thing on Facebook if that's more up your alley. Connie and I were talking yesterday about how so many of you - who don't even know him - and who really don't even "know" us - were praying for him. And that's just awesome.

OK people. I'm outta' here.

The Captain got up early this morning for some reason. And, instead of watching news and weather and sports recaps and such (which is what I do when I am up by myself), he has chosen to watch some scary wolf movie. Ummmm, it's a bit early for that nonsense. So I'm headed to work.

Have a happy day!