"Seriously?" Moment #1:
I rolled out of bed in my typical
"Seriously?" Moment #2:
While I was still in my bathrobe, I noticed a car drive slowly in front of our house and then stop. Naturally, the dogs saw this and started tearing ass over to bark at it. I opened the door to call them off and the car practically peeled out and sped away. Good thing I'm not paranoid or that might have creeped me out. Who the fuck does that? I'll tell you: People casing your house, trying to steal your children or stalkers....That is who. Next time I am opening the door with my gun. Try me.
"Seriously?" Moment #3:
All of the bills were due. Something new and different. Let's have a parade.
"Seriously?" Moment #4:
I pulled my freshly laundered and line dried sheets off the clothes line and noticed Squirrel shit smeared all over my white top sheet. Yummy. I'll be sure to put the skidder on Brock's side of the bed. See #5 for explanation.
"Seriously?" Moment #5:
Thing 2 slipped and whacked his head on the tub WHILE MY HUSBAND WAS RIGHT THERE HOVERING OVER HIM. ??? Don't worry, he was unharmed.
Thing 2 is okay too.
Failed "teaching opportunity" #1:
I was attempting to mow the lawn (Brock and Thing 2 were at the grocery store spending obscene amounts of money.... again) and Thing 1 threw a ball into our newly planted garden boxes. Where the ball goes, the Red Dog follows.
***Flash back to Sunday as Thing 1 and I "bonded" over planting our pampered and precious (okay, leggy and malnourished) seedlings, along with a variety of other vegetables, in the raised garden beds that we (and when I say "we", I mean Brock) worked so hard on building. I even planned a fucking chart so that we would have visual appeal as well as the literal fruit of our labor. I drew it out. Of course I did. I'm OCD.
I looked at the devastation created by the destructive combination of my ball crazed dog and my thrill seeking almost 4 year old and honestly just wanted to cry. Instead, I sent Thing 1 to a weak Time Out and proceeded to mow a few more strips of
Failed "teaching opportunity" #2:
During a play date, Red Dog was molesting my guests with her ball so I attempted to put her inside the house. She ran away from me and crawled under my truck, where she promptly lost all muscle control and fell limply onto her back (we refer to this as the dead fly). I didn't feel like crawling under my truck and dragging out the dead weight of a 35 pound dog to school her, so I left her there. I'm fairly certain she totally learned her lesson.
She was bugging us with the ball about 30 seconds later. Yay me.
|It doesn't matter what you are doing.... |
She is ALWAYS there with that effing ball.
Failed "teaching opportunity" #3:
My husband got a spam text on his cell (which he leaves at a volume that could be heard over a fucking jackhammer) at 2:45 a.m. this morning and guess who was AWAKE FOR THE DAY? Again. Yay me. Now it's Tuesday. All damned day.
Seriously, just pick something else out of my day. Anything really. This seems to be a pattern with me.
On a brighter note: (see? I even made it bright blue!) Since I was awake at Satan's hour, I finally made it to that 7:30 a.m. yoga class that I kept sleeping through... so there is that! It was good. S'Guuuuud.
Wait! I'm having another vision! I foresee an early bedtime and a sleeping aid tonight; like a college textbook....or NPR...or a Tylenol PM. Or Maybe I'll try all three together and I'll blissfully drift off into a coma.