Gorillabuns

another first of many to come

today was moira's first day of mother's day out. i am now officially going to have every friday for 2.25 hours to myself. basically, 2.25 hours to crap without anyone yelling at me for more chocolate milk or more fo-funch. 2.25 hours to do absolutely nothing because, other than grocery shopping, one can't accomplish much in this time period.

moira reacted to her first day of "school" like a total pro.

"hi, i'm moira!"

"are we going to play?"

"this is my ariel lunch box!"

"this is my bunny!"

walking past the throng of screaming children who have felt abandoned by their mothers, moira didn't look back at me. at all. not even to say good-bye.

what i expected for today was this:

a pissed off, disgruntled toddler.

not a happy, cheerful, ready for the world little girl.

now the 2.25 hours alone without any of my girls by my side, seems way too long.

it's so on

when was it i returned from chicago? was it the end of july? like the 29th? today's like a month later, right?

if my memory serves me well, though i have major a tendency to brain dump everyone else's important information but mine, i recall the homecoming from such a trip, less than stellar. oh, the children were happy to see me, screaming with joy and hugs but.... upon arrival to my humble abode.... the abode needed major overhauling. more like a fire-bombing. don't get me wrong, my house is always in a state of disrepair but this time, it was indicative of what one might find from a weekend of partying frat boys.  my mature self went to the bathroom and cried. like hard. then proceeded to throw things and then, ultimately clean up.

am i making you uncomfortable yet? and why am i bringing up such a "that's in the past, this is the present" memory?

because of this motherfucker:

this is the last residual item that remains unclean. the pan was used during my absence and i refuse to clean it up. during any given week, it makes it's way around the kitchen, visiting rich's coffee pot, the sugar and flour decanters and the breakfast bar to only wind up on one side of the sink, patiently waiting for some love.

i refuse to clean it.

rich refuses to acknowledge it's existence.

soon, this will be a found object underneath someone's pillow.

it's official

maintaining a feral cat's mane is not advisable for the weak and timid. everyday, without fail, i try to maintain and groom my feral animal's mane. today's grooming session brought about a new revelation in which i shuddered after the words had left the building. 

"if you don't stop screaming and going crazy, i'll give you something to cry about."

it's official. i am my mother.

surprise

Rich left this morning for New Mexico at 5:30am to be exact. Basically, I've officially been awake but not too alert for18 hours. Red Bull didn't even begin to keep me awake today.

Note to self: Find another stimulating alternative to keep me awake. I've bottomed out on my drug of choice.

So, to keep everyone busy, happy, alert, and not question Dad's existence in our great state; the girls and I went shopping at Target, nuked T.V. dinners for supper, played in the god-awful heat, took baths (They did, not me. My weekly bath comes tomorrow), painted and colored until 8pm.

Moira passed out watching Spongebob Squarepants in our bedroom, while Celia tried to tap dance, negotiate and then whine her way out of her impending situation of sleep. We both agreed upon five minutes of T.V. so I could put daughter #2 in her bed. During such transportation, the oldest then passed out in my bed. Deciding that sometimes battles are just not worth fighting over when one is too tired to argue, I started to climb into the other side of my bed. As I threw one leg into my bed, the feeling of a "surprise" left for mama, became evident.

The SURPRISE! was a wet bed.

SURPRISE! I GET to sleep on the scratchy hot couch tonight.

I hate my couch and I hate surprises.

vacation - mid august '07

what does one do when one is dirt-assed poor because mamma spent all the extra fundage in chicago and the hubs wants to go on a family vacation?

you buy a 1/2 priced tent from sears (yes, people, i said sears. what of it?)  a bag of marshmallows, while pretending you are camping in the woods.

in your backyard.

in 98.7 degree weather.

at 8:30pm.

after 1.5 hours of remarkably cuss-free tent erection with the hubmaster  (i said erection, heh, heh. beavis and butthead would be so proud. yes, i AM showing my age, aren't i?)

blowing up the sleeping bags for the girls.

removing 1/2 of the toys from the house to only stock the tent.

after explaining the first rule of camping: NEVER soil (pee or poop) your camp-site. both children then exclaimed, "i'm hot!!! can we go inside and watch spongebob?"

For further adventures of the Griswold Family,  stay tuned....