There is no way to get everyone out the door every morning without losing another drop of what little sanity I have left.  I often wonder why, no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get the day started without something going wrong.  I refuse to believe I'm the only mother on earth suffering from this constant catastrophe syndrome that seems to have taken control of my day to day living.

There is a specific place for coats, backpacks, and any other school related items.  Yet, every morning, someone has lost something they need before they can leave the house.  Someone always needs something that didn't get washed or dried the day before.  This person didn't get ready in time to have breakfast, or breakfast is dribbling down the clean shirt that was specifically washed for that day.  There is no way to count how many times a week I'm told about a need or obligation the very morning of said need or obligation... no warning whatsoever.  Misplaced books, pencils, homework... needs of last minute projects supplies, money, permission slips... lost hats, gloves, shoes... sanity.

I can plan and plan and plan.  I can get up an hour earlier, stay up hours later... it does not matter.  "She used all the hot water."  "He's taking too long to brush his teeth."   "I can't find my pink hairbow."  "Is my hair too frizzy?"  "Does this shirt look good?"  "Have you seen my belt?"  "Will you buy me a Hello Kitty backpack?"  "I have to stay after school."  "Can you sign this... date this... iron this... lock me in a closet until I'm old enough to take care of myself?" 

Okay... they don't ask that last part, but I'd be happy to help them on that one if they did.

There isn't enough Calgon or caffeine in the world to take me away from it all... so I guess I'll just have to continue to deal with it and focus on the happy parts.  Happy parts like teaching her water conservation, telling him two minutes is just enough time on his teeth, having more than one pink hairbow on hand, having the anti-frizz products in plain view, buying the perfect shirts, remembering where he puts his belts, shopping on the Hello Kitty website, realizing that after school activities are important for them, signing, dating, and ironing everything just in time, and cleaning out the closet... just in case I suddenly need the room.

I got used to sleeping by myself long before I was divorced.  He was deployed for months at a time and by the end of our marriage, I was no longer sleeping in the same room, anyway.  And in the beginning I loved sleeping by myself.  I'm a very light sleeper... when I sleep at all.  I tend to toss and turn a lot.  I didn't have to worry about keeping anyone awake when I slept alone.  I didn't have to worry about being woken up, either.  I could stretch out, ball up... anything I wanted.

But once I moved back home and added all sorts of new stress to my life, my sleep patterns got worse, and my nights got long and lonely.  I can remember so many nights wishing I had someone there beside me.  I wanted to feel like I wasn't facing everything alone.  To be honest, even when I was married before, I didn't feel like I had a partner.  So it was strange for me to be aching for something I'd never had.  But I did.  I would fall into bed absolutely exhausted knowing I only had a couple hours of sleep to look forward to, and all I wanted was to feel the weight of someone lying there beside me so that I wouldn't feel so cut off from the rest of the world.

It was hard.  The nights were horrible.  I almost went back to him once, and I'd already moved half way across the country from him.  If you'd been on the outside looking in, that wouldn't have made sense to you.  He was such a cold selfish person.  He contributed nothing to our relationship... not even to our day to day living.  I didn't want to go back because I loved him.  The best way to explain it... have you ever left the tv on even though you weren't watching it... just for the company?  The sound?  I was so desperate to just share the same space with another adult at the end of the day.

I have always been such an independent person.  Always the first one to jump into something.  Daddy says I fly by the seat of my pants more than anyone he's ever known.  I don't understand that phrase.  Sometimes I don't think I'm southern enough.  I know I'm way too stubborn.  And I tend to let the romantic side of things influence me entirely too much.  I've led such a whimsical life.

Until I moved back home.  Nothing will grow you up and suck out your soul like a divorce and too much month at the end of the money.  I was one of those lucky women who struggled to make enough money to pay the bills but made too much to get any sort of help anywhere.  Being in that position for a few months will quickly make you realize how so many women get stuck in the welfare cycle.  Once they're in it, it's almost impossible to get out.  I remember being really confused about it all... how women on welfare seemed to be doing better in life than me.  They didn't seem to struggle with bills, and they were home all day, every day with their kids.  Obviously I wasn't seeing the whole picture.  But I was still bitter.

I was miserable and LONELY.  And that was a new thing for me.  Sure, I'd been lonely before, but it had never been a constant companion until that point.  My heart ached so deeply it brought about a phyiscal pain.  I was never comfortable.

Even after feeling that way for so long, I still had a hard time getting used to actually having someone beside me at night.  Every once in a while my new sweetly screwed up husband will tease me about our first nights together.  The sex was absolutely over the moon from the very beginning, but afterward I wasn't very polite about which side of the bed was his and which was mine.  He teases me about how I'd snap at him if he even touched me.  I didn't remember it until he talked about it, but I actually sat up in bed one night and phsyically pointed to where his body should be and where mine should be on the bed.  How he put up with me, I will never know.

I know now that it stemmed from issues and fears I didn't even realize I had.  I was such a bitch to pull him in and push him away like I did.  And it didn't seem to phase him.  I have never met a more determined person in my life.  If you knew him, you'd be surprised, too, because he's normally such a laid back person.  He can bend and sway with a situation better than anyone I've ever known.  Always takes things in stride.  But in this, the king of compromise did not budge.  He kept coming back.

The result?  He was out of town last night, and I couldn't sleep at all.  It was the first time he has been gone over night in a while, and it was hell.  I didn't have his body heat against me.  Against me.  The space I allow him in the bed now... we could sleep in a kid's bed.  I don't give him space.  Period.  Sometimes when I wake up at night he's across the bed from me, and as I'm quickly throwing myself back against him to snuggle in, I wonder if he regrets turning me into a human leech.  The fact that he has turned me into a sniveling clingy suckbaby is a standing example of how you should be careful of what you wish for.

He just needs to hurry home so I can get some sleep.

I'm having a hard time getting some of my normal MoTime reads to open this morning.  I'm sure it's probably something on my end.  I haven't cleaned out this laptop in a while now.  And I have been allowing the kids to use it quite a bit lately.  I know... that's not a good idea. 

The morning nausea is about to win.  I'm fighting it, but I think I'm about to go down for the count.  Nothing like starting your Monday off with a good hurl, I guess.  It has actually been a while since I spent the day gauging everything I eat by how badly it hurts on its way back up.  I'll spare you the details.

I got nothing done this weekend.  That's beginning to be a normal for me.  I didn't even get anywhere on the projects I'm currently crafting.  The piece I'm knitting right now... I pulled out the entire thing and started over.  If you aren't happy with something, you just aren't happy.

Today's date is standing out huge in my mind this morning, and I can't figure out why.  I don't remember anything specific for this date.  Chances are, I'll remember tonight right after I get ready for bed.  And it will be something important that I've missed.  I need something to enhance my memory.  Any ideas?  I could just google it, but I don't have time for trial and error.  I need something already proven.  Don't tell me to work those brain teaser things.  If I had time for that, I'd have time to actually work on remembering things better.

I've gotten such a horrible start to the year.  The first month is already gone, and I haven't made any advances to simplify my life at all.  I really want to make this year positive, less stressful.  I'm just so overwhelmed I don't know where to start.  There's no way to make a priority list because I already have so many issues in the red... already urgent.  I don't know how this happens.

I just deleted a huge paragraph where I bitched about the unfair rules and regulations of this tax season.  Be glad I did.  Screw says it's something I should get used to... that people in our tax bracket bear the weight of everyone else, and there's nothing we can do about it.  I didn't believe that before.  Unfortunately our family is proof positive now.  Oh well...

I don't want to do anything today.  I'm clearly not motivated... unless this boring post hasn't alerted you to that fact already.  I'm tired.  But I'm going to force myself up soon.  Maybe I'll feel better once I see improvement around here.  Not likely, but I figured I'd try to end on a positive note.

I heard a song I haven't heard in probably a year, and it reminded me of one of the best friends I've ever had.  I met her while we both lived in Texas as military wives.  We're still in touch, but it's so much harder to share our lives now that I'm back home in Kentucky and she's back home in Alaska.  Talk about being from different worlds, huh.  A bond grew between us that I'd never experienced before.

Amy is unlike anyone I've ever known.  She has this crude obnoxious side that can come out and simply cut you to the bone.  But trust me, you'll deserve it if you get it.  She would put herself through hell before she would intentionally hurt anyone. 

I could tell you about her life, and while it was nowhere near the horror some people live through, I'm sure there are parts that would make you cry.  But the point is, Amy found herself in a situation.  A horrible situation.  Her husband had told her about his latest girlfriend (there had been many before this).  This time was different.  She just couldn't handle it anymore.  She left him.  She thought she'd pay him back by screwing the first man that showed interest in her.  He ended up being this horrible horrible man.  She told him up front that she was married but separated.  He told her that he'd never been married.  When she found out that he was married (his wife showed up at her apartment) she confronted him.  He beat her up.  She ran him off and refused to ever see him again.

Then she found out she was pregnant.

She was going back to her husband.  They were going to give it one more try.  But he told her she couldn't come home if she kept the baby.  She didn't know how to live without him.  On top of his ultimatum, there was no way she could see herself forever tied to that awful man.  It was such a disaster.  How does a person find themselves in situations like that?  It seemed so unreal... like a bad dream.

To this very day I don't know how she survived it all.  I don't know how I survived going through it with her.  I sat by her and held her hand so many nights while she cried and cried.  I agonized over every mistake that had been made right along with her.  I took her 2am calls.  Sometimes I had to remind her to just breathe.  She was broken more than anyone I'd ever known.  And she was my best friend.

She asked me to go with her.  I broke down and cried and cried. I begged her to ask anyone but me.  It went against everything inside me... it hurt me to the very core of my soul.  I didn't want to go.  I told myself I couldn't.  I refused.

But she was dying inside.  And she was my best friend.  So I went, and I wiped her eyes while she silently cried through the whole procedure.  And afterward I held her hand while she cried and cried.  I agonized over every mistake along with her.  I took her 2am calls.  Sometimes I reminded her to just breathe.  I wasn't her judge.  I'm still not.  I love her.

Even now.

Before I married Screw, I told him we'd never share a child.  Ok, never is a strong word... but the odds would have been ten million to one.  He knew it and swore he didn't care.  We're raising kids together... they're OUR children.  But the last trip to the hospital removed even the tiniest of chances.  No medical procedure, nothing in modern science... no miracles...

I can give him any part of me that he'll ever want, but I can't give him that.  And he just smiles, wipes my tears, and tells me how much he loves me.  He must love me.  He sits by me and holds my hand while I cry and cry.  He agonizes with me over every mistake I've ever made.  And he takes my 2am calls.  Sometimes he reminds me to just breathe.

"2am she calls me cause I'm still awake.

'Can you help me unravel my latest mistake? 

I don't love him. 

Winter just wasn't my season.' 

Yeah, we walk through the door...

so accusing, their eyes.

Like they have any right at all to criticize.

Hypocrits, you're all here for the very same reason.

Cause you can't jump the track.

We're like cars on a cable.

And life's like an hourglass glued to the table. 

No one can find the rewind button, girl.

So craddle your head in your hands.... and breathe. 

Just breathe."

I didn't mind waking up this morning even though I got zero sleep last night.  It was mostly my fault.  We didn't mean to stay up as late as we did, but I got interested in a movie, and couldn't turn it off.  I'll watch anything with Hugh Grant in it.  I don't care how sleazy he is.  He can pay all the hookers and party with entire sororities all he wants.  I don't want to screw him.  I just want to watch him act.

The kids were out of school yesterday due to icy roads.  Not snow.  We're not actually seeing snow, but we have tons of ice on the roads from how it warmed up and cooled down so quickly.  The problem with this area is the secondary roads that aren't in good condition, anyway.  Add ice build up to that, and you have dangerous situations out in rural areas of the county.  They'll probably chance it this morning although I'm not sure how I feel about that.  My children do not ride a school bus or travel along any of the dangerous areas so I'll send them if school is in session, but they would not be getting into a school bus even if that was their normal routine.  I REALLY do want them to go back to school today... ugh.

Screw believes he's actually going to be able to take off two weeks of work and have the money to take two vacations all at the same time.  That will be a miracle if he pulls it off.  We've decided we'll take the kids to the beach for a week before we head out on our romantic getaway.  When he came up with the idea, I loved it immediately.  I'd love to head to the beach, rent a condo for the week, and just relax with the kids.  Forget the stress of running around a huge theme park or anything like that.  That's not vacation.  That's hell.  And this way the two older ones can invite a friend along which is probably the only way to get them to enjoy a week with us, anyway!  I'll love it if it all works out.

I have a full day ahead of me.  I won't get everything done.  I have low expectations today, and it's good to admit that.  I have priorities.  I just want to get through those before I run out of steam.  I've put off waking up the little monster long enough.  It's time to face the day.  Bring it on....

I've been up for over and hour.  I couldn't sleep.  This dry air is hell on my sinuses.  It's a constant struggle to get the atmosphere where you need it in an old house.  I'm not complaining, though... much. 

I have six minutes before I have to wake up the first person.  Thankfully it's only Screw.   He's easier.  Not that he won't whine and complain.  Trust me, he will.  But he'll do it in a cute way that will only give me something to tease him about later.  He's just low maintenance compared to the rest of the family.  He'll even go through the house and hunt down his own clean towel if I've forgotten to put them in the bathroom.  Everyone else in the house will stand at the bathroom door, dripping.... and YELL for one. 

I do have to get his clothes for the day.  But that's my idea.  I like doing it.  He'd leave wrinkled and looking completely chaotic if I didn't do it.  He has good taste in clothing.  He just doesn't know how to put it all together.  For him, trying to find a professional looking, clean, pressed outfit every morning was such a chore.  It's five minutes out of my morning.  I don't mind exchanging the task for something.  Like.... he smothers my feet in lotion sometimes at night.  That trade works for me!

I have succeeded in greatly reducing the amount of caffeine I get in a day.  Well, some days, anyway.  I will not give up my morning coffee.  But the amount of soda and tea I take in is far less than it used to be.  I'm trying.  Anything that will improve my sleep.  However, I just don't think it's the caffeine.  I've been addicted to it for so long, I can drink a gourmet coffee and go straight to bed.  That's sad, I know, but it's true.  Again... the highly demanding lifestyle of a single parent brought about many of my present day vices.  And since I am no longer in that situation, I want to break the cycle.

Not every habit is a bad one, though.  Well, I'm sure pizza night might not be a "healthy" habit, but I'm still not giving it up.  That used to be the only night I got to actually sit down and relax.  Most times I shouldn't have because I had too much to do, but I forced myself to take one night for myself and my family.  We needed it.  We still do, and I won't give it up no matter how busy we get.  Friday nights are pizza and movie night.  Even when I was struggling to keep a roof over our heads, I didn't sacrifice my Friday nights.  I don't cook on Fridays.  These days, depending upon how busy we are or how sick I am, there may be several nights a week where I either don't cook or make something really simple.  But Friday nights are my scary movie, pizza, popcorn, and M&M night. 

Screw never objected to most of my little idiosyncrasies when he became part of my chaotic world.  He says he finds most of them endearing.  He doesn't mind paying for pizza on Friday nights, and I don't mind the way he constantly reads sports news.  Honest, I don't. ;)

As long as he keeps rubbing my feet.

Had I known there was a midnight movie party on my blog last night I would have gotten up and joined it!  I didn't sleep at all.  I fell asleep while Screw was watching the game, and then I woke up just as it ended and from that point on, sleep was elusive.  Pain wasn't.  I was miserable for most of the night.

And now it's Monday, and the house is trashed... and it's time to start all over again.  We've gotten into a very lazy habit of doing NOTHING on the weekends he doesn't work.  I wouldn't say I regret it because I don't.  He works really hard, and I stress constantly.  So weekends where we just shut ourselves away from that for a couple days here and there isn't asking too much.  But then on Monday mornings when I look around my house and it looks like Will Smith fought an alien zombie in it, I do question why I keep letting it happen.

The fifteen minute increments of sleep I did get last night brought around dreams of complete horror.  One time I dreamed about the state of our yard. (Yes it's an obsession)  Next I dreamed our plumbing exploded and there was water everywhere.  Then I dreamed my hair fell out.  Yeah... I'm a little stressed these days.

I need help.

Screw spent the evening looking up vacation packages.  He's been planning a romantic getaway where we fly into somewhere beautiful, rent a convertible, and hit the road for a week.  It makes me all warm and fuzzy to think about it.  How he's going to make that happen, I have no idea.  I know we have to do something with the kids, too.  Well, it isn't that we "have" to... I want to.  I'm guessing if I gave them a choice, a small vacation with Mom and Dad or shopping, they'd choose for the money to go toward shopping.  Material little shits.  But all kids are to a degree, aren't they.  The two smaller ones will want to do something with us, the teens will want something in their hands.

He's gone to work now, and the kids are still sleeping.  They get a day off.  I'm up watching the kittens destroy even more of what's left of my house.  We managed to give away all but two.  And one of these, I hate to admit, I've fallen in love with.  Sophie is such an adorable pet. 

So now, we're down to two cats and four African miniature frogs.  Don't ask.  I'm getting ready to restock the fish tank with MY kind of fish.  I can deal with any pet they want as long as that pet is secure.  These roaming little machines of destruction are just more than I can handle, though.

So two cats, four frogs, an ever-changing number of kids that never drops below four but can equal as much as six or seven, and one husband... any wonder I'm so stressed?!

I'm not a good cook.  I don't think I'm a bad cook.  I'm just very limited in what I can make.  I've never tried to expand my knowledge in the kitchen.  I've never wanted to.  I'm not the kind of person who gets a thrill out of watching a new recipe come together for the perfect treat.  I guess I'm very simplistic when I think about it because I don't get spending hours and hours on something that you're going to eat in ten minutes.  I hate it when someone gives me a recipe but can't tell me how much of what to put in.  Telling me to guess... a dab of this, a pinch of that.  I just can't do it.  I have to KNOW exact measurements.  I don't trust myself to "know".  It drives me insane.  I have to weigh and measure, and I hate weighing and measuring.  How is that fun?!  And the clean up... forget that.  I've had truly amazing meals in my life that I would love to know how to make, but knowing how to do something and actually finding the time to do it, not likely in my world.  Yes, I'm southern and cooking is not my favorite thing in life.  I am a southern woman, and I do not LIVE to serve my family mouthwatering meals where even the vegetables are bad for you because you've fried the hell out of them.

I bring this up because I had to make ten cups of coffee this morning.  Why?  Because I bought the basic run of the mill Folgers coffee from the grocery store.  (How many of you did that just offend?)  And I know nothing about coffee.  I have just been pouring in estimated amounts of coffee for weeks now, and I've noticed it just keeps getting stronger and stronger.  Now, I'm a firm believer that coffee should essentially be brewed to taste, but this stuff was not meeting my taste needs.  But the directions are for one serving... or ten.  And I canNOT guess at measurements.  So I made ten because I wanted to measure it out and see exactly what it's supposed to taste like... what they mean it to taste like once it's brewed.  It's better their way.  It doesn't make my eyes water at this strength, anyway.  Maybe I'll start grinding my own coffee.  It's an idea.

Don't laugh at me.  I blame this coffee/caffeine addiction on my friend David and being a single parent working sixteen hours a day to make ends meet.  You deal with things the best way you can, and during that time in my life, my best way consisted of my breakfast and lunch being energy bars and coffee.  Because as any mother will tell you, just because you put in sixteen hours at the office, your day is just starting once you get home to the kids.  I was fine using tea and sodas for my caffeine, but David held a gun to my head and forced me to drink coffee at the Hen House every time I saw him.  Eventually the bitterness faded into what felt closely like salvation by coffee bean.

The sweetest thing happened to me yesterday.  I was in the grocery store, and oh my gosh, I hate the grocery store.  I'll put it off until everyone in my house is looking at me with hollow eyes and sunken stomaches.  I think grocery stores are evil.

So I was walking through the store yesterday, and I passed a mother and daughter shopping.  The daughter looked to be in her late teens or earlies twenties, and she was obviously challenged.  I'm even more ignorant when it comes to knowing mental and physical handicaps so don't let me offend anyone by this.  I just don't see that.  I always see past that.  I could tell she has Downs Syndrome to a degree, or at least that's what I believe she has.  I don't believe it is a severe case because she was actively involoved in helping her mother do their shopping.

And her mother... I want half the patience of that woman with my own healthy children.  She was amazing.  She was letting her daugther help her by telling her daughter certain items to look for, and this particular item was some paper plates.  The mom told her to get the plates that had a price of $5.22.  So the daughter came toward me looking for the plates.  She was repeating the price over and over.  And then she said, "Mom, what did you say?  What was it?"  The mom didn't answer her.  She was concentrating on looking for something, too.  So I smiled at the daughter and repeated what the mom said.  I said, "You're looking for 522.  5-2-2."  She smiled back at me, and I continued down the aisle.

I finished my shopping, checked out, made it to the car, and started unloading the massive amounts of food it takes to feed the herd that will gather at my house this weekend... like every weekend.  Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the mother and daughter had made their way out to their car which happened to be just across the aisle from my own.  As I finished with my groceries, I closed the hatch and turned around to find her mother standing directly behind me.  She smiled and said, "I just wanted to tell you that as we walked by you just now my daughter looked over at you and said, "Mom, I like that woman a lot.  She has nice hair, and she's pretty."  I wanted to tell you."  I immediately teared up, of course.  The daughter was already in the warm car, so I just looked over at her, smiled, and waved.  I thanked her mother and got into my car.  It made my year. 

I mean, really...  we all know children are brutally honest, and I've always secretly admired people who are mentally challenged for one thing... their honesty.  Among all the things they are shorted in their lives, they seem to also have been fortunately cheated out of the thing inside us that makes us use tact to lie.  They call it like they see it.  At least that's what I'm telling myself.  Because... after all, that young lady said I was pretty. 

So I must be pretty.

Minimally invasive and why I'm blogging at 2pm on a Wednesday-

Minimally invasive... I'd convinced myself it would be an in and out kind of procedure. (yes, I meant that pun)  To say I was wrong would be putting it more than mildly.  As my ever politically correct husband put it, we should have known better.  We should have known any medical procedure requiring a woman to have a hot searing laser rammed in places that bring grown men to their knees, whether the laser is shaped like a giant sex toy or not, is NOT minimally invasive.

My first clue should have been when the recovery nurse warned me to be sure and remember to ask the surgical recovery nurse for pain meds BEFORE being brought downstairs because the surgical nurse could give me something straight into my I.V. and she could only give me pills.  That was her way of trying to tell me without telling me that I was about to feel like my very on scifi movie where they've placed an alien baby inside me and it wants out. Now.

Or the second clue might have been when I had to sign the release forms saying it was ok to put me so far under sedation that I might have short term memory loss... or at least a slip from sanity for the first day following it.

Or I should have certainly realized what was happening when they woke me up right afterward and the attending nurses were rushing to get me out of their ward back downstairs while anxiously watching me to see if they could do it before the green bug-eyed baby started pushing its way through.

And they did.  Leaving me no time whatsoever to come to my senses fast enough to ask for the good drugs.  So by the time I got back downstairs and those nurses got to me, I felt like I was giving birth to alien triplets... and not the natural way, either.

Screw is such a laid back guy.  But yesterday, I think if he hadn't gotten me home when he did, he would have taken someone out.  The one nurse was so sloppy in what she was doing for me, another one had to take over.  And of course, the original one was all defensive and saying, "I was going to do that for her... blah blah blah".  I lied to them like any normal human and told them I was feeling much better so that I could get home and die in peace.  He hid the crackers they insisted I eat before they'd give me drugs in his pocket.  For future reference, you just don't let someone he cares about sit in agony and do nothing about it.  By the time he got my pain under control last night, I think he felt like he'd been through more than me.  It wasn't easy, I know.  I didn't make it any easier, crying and begging him to do something.... knowing all the while he was doing everything he could.  Geez, that man is unbelievable.  It's so cool to be married to a Pharmacist that knows all the neat little tricks of drugs... but it's so much cooler to be married to man that loves you like he loves me.

According to the doctor, everything went fine.  And I like him.  I think he knows what he's talking about.  I think he purposely omitted the details of the excruciating pain so that I'd go through with the procedure.  But I like him enough to trust him.  For now.

And that's how we spent our night and all of today thus far.  Being high for twenty-four straight hours can be a good thing.  He watches me closely.  And right before I feel the first twinge of pain return he's standing before me with my own little pharmacy in the palm of his hands.  I think he'd beat me before he'd let me not take them. 

No way he's going through another yesterday.  That's for damn sure... giant sex toy or not.

It's cold outside.  I can feel it while I sit here in front of the window drinking coffee.  And it's supposed to be bone chilling cold all week.  Only slight chances of snow.  It's so unfair.

I know some say that Mondays are hard because we convince ourselves they're supposed to be like that.  But if you ask me, I think Mondays are hard because .... Mondays are hard.  We had a nice relaxing day off yesterday.  I'm fully aware that by doing nothing yesterday, I only doubled what I have to do today, but it's Monday.  It's supposed to be hard.

The morning caffeine boost is working its normal magic, but I'll crash soon, and I can't afford to crash today.  This is going to be an unusually hectic week for us with lots of appointments and obligations.  But once we get them all over with, we'll feel better.

B is sitting across from me eating her cereal, and she looks rough!  I'm not sure she went to sleep like she was supposed to once I put her to bed last night.  It wouldn't be the first time if she tricked me into thinking she was asleep only to get up and play later.  If that's what she did, it's going to be a tough day for her.

But it's supposed to be a rough day because it's Monday.  And Mondays are hard days.

I spent the day running errands and cleaning.  I'm not finished... not even half way, but at least I made an effort.  I ate an energy bar this afternoon for the first time since I was working sixteen hours a day and spending three hours at a time on conference calls with India.  Outsourcing is a pain in the ass.  I never really understood how we expected people to process data not even in their own language.  And pay them next to nothing to do it.  Don't get me started.  No wonder there was always so many mistakes.  ANYWAY... the energy bar did a little for me but not much.

Tonight... tonight is my night to relax.  I'm forcing my husband to sit through three scifi movies back to back.  He doesn't work tomorrow.  So there's no excuse.  He can sleep all day.  For the most part, I think he likes my kind of movie, but bless his heart... he pretends to like that stuff even when he doesn't.  Now, that's love.  Well that, and he knows if he does, he'll score at the end of the night.

So it's popcorn and M&Ms... snuggled underneath a blanket on the couch that's so big and deep my feet don't touch the floor if I sit back properly.  I'll catch him smiling at me when I turn to smile at him.  He'll tell me how cute I look in my glasses, and I'll blush.  It's amazing... the raunchy stuff doesn't make me blush... just the sweet stuff.

He'll make witty comments all through the movie, and I'll scold him.  It will take a while because in the beginning I'll be giggling at him... then it will really start getting on my nerves and he'll know he should take me seriously.  But he still doesn't stop.  He likes getting me frustrated.  So by the time the movie is over I'm ready to strangle him, but he doesn't care because he knows he's still going to get laid.

An absolutely perfect Saturday night.

Sometimes I feel so distant from the world.  Alternate reality or something... I'm walking around among everyone but I'm still detached.  I can't be heard, seen, touched.  Day to day living is in a fog.  Dazed and confused.  I sit here waiting for energy that never comes.

The weekend is here, and I have no idea why I'm glad.  I still have a million things to do regardless of what day it is, and the weekends are even harder days to get anything accomplished.  Doesn't matter, I doubt I'll try very hard, anyway.  I just get tired of feeling like I'm swimming up stream.  You'd think the order of the universe would be in jeopardy if I got one easy day or something.  I refuse to believe that my misery is that important in the grand scheme of things.

I'm so frustrated this morning.  I'm actually glad I've been up since 4:30am.  Maybe this quiet time will help me find a better mood.  I have so much to do today, but if I don't change my mind with this cup of coffee, I'm not going to do it.  I'm not superwoman, it's not all my responsibility.  I don't care anymore.

Okay, I do care, but I'm too pissed off to let the concern overwhelm me.  A great way to start a week, right.  Three hours of sleep is contributing to my early morning bitchiness, I know, and it's likely to only get worse from here.

My mother-in-law is coming up for a visit this evening.  This will be only the second time she's ever been up here.  She's bringing Screw's brother with her.  He lives on the West Coast and only makes it back here once a year or so.  Normally this would be a good thing, but since the husband works every single day this week and won't be home until around 8:30pm or so, I have no freaking clue what I'm going to do all day with two people I know absolutely nothing about.  The kids' winter break ends today, too, so I won't even have them here to distract.  After all, it's not like this town is a mecca of attractions and entertainment.  I guess I could take them to the very first KFC... there's even a museum.

Don't get me wrong.  I adore my mother-in-law.  Honest.  (Yes I'm drugged, but they haven't kicked in yet.)  I mean I really do adore her.  She's a great woman, and normally I'd be thrilled to see her.  This is just going to be a real test of my sanity.  And it pisses me off that Screw doesn't realize how freaked out I am by it all.  Just because he's relaxed and carefree toward it, he could try to at least pretend to see why I'm spazing.

Sometimes it's easier to nail jello to a tree than it is to get a man to understand anything.  Why is that?  I think it's fake.  They pretend not to " know" so that when confronted, they can be innocent.  Evil little shits.  I'd cut him off when he does that except I like sex too much.  No way I'm punishing myself.

And I can't blow up at him because twenty seconds into my tirade, I'm already regretting it.  If he wasn't so damned cute, I could really yell at him over these things.  But noooooo.... I had to marry a sexy man.  What was I thinking?! 

I know when I'm REALLY stressed even before the headache hits because I catch myself clenching my teeth together so tightly that it will cause my mouth to be sore later... not grinding them, but almost.  I had to constantly force myself to relax my mouth most of the night last night, and I've already noticed it this morning. 

Oh and I just can't wait to wake up the little monster.  I know she didn't fall asleep until late last night.  No matter how hard I tried, it was almost impossible to get her back into the school routine this past week.  So she didn't get her normal eleven hours of sleep which means... you think I'm in a bitchy mood... HA.... I have about half an hour to prepare myself for a battle that would probably convince the Catholic church to do an exorcism.  Ugh.

I have no idea why I'm still sitting here with as much as I have to do today.  Oh yeah... I remember now... I'm not doing it.  You're laughing... but I'm really not going to do it.

It's going to be a really long day.

I have a somewhat positive outlook today.  Don't ask me where that came from.  It wasn't a good night's sleep.  The flipping cat that T just HAD to take in is apparently in heat, and she wailed ALL NIGHT LONG.  This is the same cat he blogged about playing with his hair all night.  Sophie... she sleeps in our room because Ophelia is still very territorial of the rest of the house.  I love Sophie.  I really do.  But one of us may have to go if she doesn't get over this quick so we can get her fixed.

I woke up in pain, as usual.  And realizing that pain made me think about the three procedures I'm having done in a couple of weeks.  Nothing terribly serious.  But I had to laugh because my pre-op papers say "minimally invasive".  Hello?!?  Sticking an instrument where the sun doesn't shine when said instrument looks much like something you can buy in your local sex shop is damned well VERY invasive if you ask me.  Sticking anything there that I'm not begging you for after one glass of wine is invasive.  Maybe it's just me?  And all this without dinner and a movie first... geez.

Today is the day I start to wean myself off diet soda.  Notice I didn't say caffeine.  One thing at a time.  Apparently even though diet sodas do not have the same negatives as regular sodas, they're still bad for me for things other than the caffeine.  And I'm not completely stupid.  I'm not going to say I'm stopping them completely.  But when I say "addiction", I mean it in the worst way... coffee or diet soda all day, every day.  I developed this habit while being a single parent having to be at work by 5am for out of the country conference calls and not getting home until 7pm.  Of course, then coming home to another entire day's worth of work before I could go to bed at night. 

There's no way I'm coming off the caffeine for a while.  Not if I want the people around me to love me and STAY around me.  Eventually I intend to get it down to a suitable amount, but that's in the future, and I'm not even focusing on that right now. 

This whole... taking things in stride... baby steps... this is new for me.  I usually jump right in with both feet without looking back.  I'm impulsive and spontaneous and normally quite out of control.  I know I'm still very much that person.  I'm just trying to get in a routine that doesn't make me feel like I'm walking the edge all the time. 

It really is ok to be comfortable.  Life doesn't have to be a constant heart in your throat kind of thing.  Mine has always been that way.  Whatever I needed to do to keep moving at full speed all the time.  The faster the heartbeat, the better.  If I was in constant motion then I didn't really have time to think about where I was going.  Like the time I moved to Montana after thinking about it for two days.  Kentucky... Montana.... that was a pretty big geographical cure I must have been looking for, huh.  It didn't work.  I really have dated men based solely on the fact they had nice asses.  It made for really dull evenings since it was impossible to stare at their asses all night, but it's not like I put a whole lot of thought into the situation.  The time I called the Charge Nurse a skillet-licking bitch and walked out on my one and only nursing job wasn't a high point in my life, either.  But the thrill of seeing her face... I don't regret it to this day.

There are thousands of things I've done without hesitation... big things... not like buying a new dress on the spur of the moment... life altering things.  And while I still cringe when I think about some of them, I can't say I regret them because they were all part of what has gotten me to where I am today.  And I'm happy today.  Isn't that what's important?  I may be miserable tomorrow, but I'm happy today.

This week has been so screwed up.  I feel like every day is Monday or Friday.  Yesterday felt like Monday all day long.  Today feels like Friday.  We are so out of whack around here, and I only have three days to turn us around so that the kids go back to school rested and ready next week.  Finding the energy for that seems almost impossible at this point.

I need the energy to do a ton of things I have planned for this year.  I need to knock out a wall to make my bathroom bigger, and I need to knock out another wall to make my bedroom bigger.  The upstairs bathroom needs to be completely redone.  Of course, first, I have to find the final plans for the house and see if I'm even close to being correct on this stuff.  Never mind I don't know the first thing about renovations of this size.  Obviously we'll hire someone if we do it, but that's a lot of money so who knows when we'll get around to it.  Both rooms are just too small.  I also want to find ways to make the living room brighter.  It's too dark. 

On top of all the things I want to do around here, I have ideas on things I want to accomplish on a personal level.  Health is just the beginning.  I'm not going about things blindly either.  I have steps... plans.  I'm just trying to stay positive about it all.  If I don't, I'll never see it all through.  I'm just not a very patient person.  I know... shocking.

I get moody.  I know, I know... hard to believe, right?  But I do.  When I'm feeling bad, I tend to get moody and defensive.  Some would even call me a bitch. (gasp!)  I think most people get turned upside down emotionally when illness or stress interferes with their lives.  It's not like I'm the only person on earth that likes to throw things. (Screw)  In my defense, I have NEVER thrown anything during a fight with another person.  I wouldn't sling something at your head just because you've pissed me off.  Nothing harder than a little slippery sarcasm, anyway.

The point is, I just never know when these moods are going to hit.  I used to be a lot better at holding them at bay.  Not so much these days.  And they get me down.  I lose sight of my goals.  I fight kicking and screaming.  And then I wallow.  It's shameless really.  But I'm one of those sappy people who believe every pain deserves its fifteen minutes, but that's all it's getting from me.  I think I snap out of it and move on fairly quickly.  And the people who love me seem to have gotten pretty good at riding it out.

I intend to see that this is an absolutely fabulous year... if it kills us all.

I shouldn't even be out of bed.  I don't have to be up for another hour, and I've already been up for almost an hour now.  The world is just so quiet.  The temperature is in the single digits outside with wind chills below zero.  We're under a snow advisory, but it looks like we've only gotten a couple inches from it.  It's beautiful.  I realize this morning that since the kids have been on holiday, I've missed my morning time this early.  I thought I was enjoying the later hours just the same since everyone is still asleep when I get up, but it isn't the same.

I know what it is that I like better about early mornings... if I'm up after 8am or so, I convince myself I don't NEED coffee.  How dumb is that.  Of course I need coffee!  Life can't be faced each new day without coffee.  What was I thinking.  And the thing is, I HATE mornings.  I have never been a morning person.  I'm a night person.  I've always been the type of person to want to stay up until 2am because I love the night.  I have never liked mornings.  Still don't.  I like mornings from 5am to 7am.  I hate 7am to noon.  So maybe I've mentally convinced myself that the early morning is still night?  Must be it.

And just so you know, I'm sticking by my New Year resolutions... if that's what they were.  I'm waiting patiently for the doctor's office to open so that I can make an appointment to go in and tell them how dumb they are and what I want them to do.  OBVIOUSLY I won't TELL them how dumb they are.  I'll just hint at it, and then pretend to be scared and clueless while feeding them what I want to happen.  And they'll do it.  They like having their answers handed to them.  That way they're not having to waste precious brain cells on thought. 

I'm sorry.  Am I being a tad bitchy about the medical profession?  Well... umm... yeah.  Not because I don't have respect for them.  I do.  I used to be one of them.  One thing that everyone who knows me well will say about me is that I absolutely despise being talked down to... don't do it.  I hate when some self-centered ego-maniac with a medical license comes to this region thinking they're going to "educate" the poor stupid people of Appalachia.  Yeah... whatever... kiss my ass.  Take the government grant you got for moving to this poverty stricken area and stick it where the sun doesn't shine.  I can go on WebMD and find out more than what they'll tell me most of the time... and it will be in English on the website.  I don't mean to offend, but if you live in this area, you know it's the truth. 

The holidays officially ended yesterday with a relaxing day in front of the tv watching football teams we like... lose.  Most of them, anyway.  Although he was for Florida, and I was for Michigan.  He's for any SEC team playing against a non-SEC team.  That's commendable, I think.  And it's also stupid.  How could he be for the team that brought US down... began our downhill slide back into nowhere?!  If he says "Tebow" one more time, he might have to die.... slowly.  Obviously I was for Michigan, and they won.  I was happy with that.  He continued to tease me for the rest of the afternoon.  He's dumb like that.  The man may never learn.

I'm planning to spend the day getting the house back in order although I'm not sure how smart that is considering the kids aren't back in school until Monday.  It's pointless until then.  I may just make a path, do some laundry, and spend the rest of the day doing nothing.  That sounds like a better plan.  We'll see how it goes.

Did anyone else make resolutions?  Tell me... so we can make fun of each other when we break them. :)