I'm getting in my daily post early today, because I have to leave. I have to pack a little bag, get in the car, leave the kids with Grandma, drive to a fancy schmancy hotel with Husband, go out to dinner, and have sex. After which, I will sleep until I wake up - without someone climbing on top of me and proclaiming "Morning! Time for Wakey!" at crack of dawn.
It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Friday, November 23, 2007
200*
Well, we all survived the Giving of Thanks tolerably well. There were only a few bouts of tears and/or hysteria. I don't much enjoy holidays (I feel like I've discussed this one before, but I'm too lazy to link back to it), but this one wasn't terrible, as holidays go. I still felt fairly anxious/tense/irritable all day, but I think I did an okay job of keeping it under wraps.
The day didn't start off so well - when the whole family marched off to church, bright and early, I tried to persuade Husband to a different type of sacred rite. And I was rebuffed. Me! Denied! It's unconscionable, I tell you.
Maybe I'll Come To Jesus after all - I'll bet he never denied anyone salvation on account of being "too tired." Humph.
Then the children were, ahem, a bit fractious. But we kind of let them get away with whatever they wanted, and it seemed to placate them pretty well.**
I made stuffing, from scratch, without a recipe, and it turned out famously. Absolutely perfect.
The turkey wasn't cooked through all the way, but I didn't stress about it too much, because it wasn't my turkey. If that had happened at my house, I would have been hiding in a closet.*** Since it was my MIL's turkey, I didn't much mind. In fact, it gave me a great idea for next year's Thanksgiving celebration. By then, I'll be in a house of my own (or dead, one), and I'm going to host Thanksgiving there. I'm going to have an entire buffet of nothing but everyone's favorite side dishes. Every single side dish you could ever imagine, and not a drop of turkey to be found. The sides are the best part of the meal anyway, IMO. I can't wait.
So now I'm watching Irving Berlin's White Christmas and loving it. Not a bad holiday at all.
*This title has nothing to do with this post, except that 200 seems like kind of a milestone or something. Whatever.
**Gee, I wonder why that is.
***Such a thing would never happen at my house, though.
The day didn't start off so well - when the whole family marched off to church, bright and early, I tried to persuade Husband to a different type of sacred rite. And I was rebuffed. Me! Denied! It's unconscionable, I tell you.
Maybe I'll Come To Jesus after all - I'll bet he never denied anyone salvation on account of being "too tired." Humph.
Then the children were, ahem, a bit fractious. But we kind of let them get away with whatever they wanted, and it seemed to placate them pretty well.**
I made stuffing, from scratch, without a recipe, and it turned out famously. Absolutely perfect.
The turkey wasn't cooked through all the way, but I didn't stress about it too much, because it wasn't my turkey. If that had happened at my house, I would have been hiding in a closet.*** Since it was my MIL's turkey, I didn't much mind. In fact, it gave me a great idea for next year's Thanksgiving celebration. By then, I'll be in a house of my own (or dead, one), and I'm going to host Thanksgiving there. I'm going to have an entire buffet of nothing but everyone's favorite side dishes. Every single side dish you could ever imagine, and not a drop of turkey to be found. The sides are the best part of the meal anyway, IMO. I can't wait.
So now I'm watching Irving Berlin's White Christmas and loving it. Not a bad holiday at all.
*This title has nothing to do with this post, except that 200 seems like kind of a milestone or something. Whatever.
**Gee, I wonder why that is.
***Such a thing would never happen at my house, though.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Sick and tired
Hi. It's me. I'm tired. I'm always tired.
I can't tell if it's normal mom-tired, or if it's more than that. I have no frame of reference for this. I am always tired. If I get eight hours of sleep, I wake up feeling groggy and drowsy, and definitely not rested. I fall asleep while driving at least three times a week. If I sit still for longer than about ten minutes, I will fall asleep. I don't have the energy to shower some days. I could cheerfully go to bed at eight every night, and still probably wake up tired. I drag. I yawn. My head is fuzzy. It's not just a physical tired, it's also a mental tired. I drag my ass around behind me in a sling every day. Remember when your first kid was new and colicky and you never got any sleep, ever, but were still trying to work full-time and commute and figure out what to do with the new small person in your house who screamed for hours on end every night? Newborn tired? I am newborn tired. Trouble is, my newborn will be two in a few months.
I also get headaches. I've always had headaches. All my life, since middle school or so, I have always gotten headaches. In a normal week, I'd say I have a headache 3-5 days out of 7. That's normal to me. It doesn't faze me. That's just the way my body is - I'm used to it by now. Lots of times, they're tension headaches, down there in the back of the skull, right at the top of the neck. Other times, they're in my eyes - I have horrible eyesight, and sometimes when my prescription needs updating, I get headaches. Occasionally, I get migraines. When I don't have caffeine by amout 10 am, I get a headache. Too much red wine? Headache.
This all seems very nornal to me. It's just a part of who I am, what my life is like. Husband, on the other hand, thinks that it's all part of something larger. He's convinced that I'm sick with something. Who knows what - something that gives you headaches and makes you tired. And he's tired, too - tired of listening to me complain, tired of me not feeling good, tired of putting up with me when I'm like this. It's gotten to the point that I don't like to even let him know what I'm feeling - I'm afraid if he thinks I'm sick too much, he'll leave me for someone with more energy, someone who feels great all the time.
This post has no point except for me to voice my worry that Husband is going to leave me because he's tired of me being sick and tired. And I don't know that he would do that - but I don't know that he wouldn't.* It's only up here because I have to post something every day, and that's what's on my mind right now. I wish I felt better - I wish I had the energy to care.
*Wow, is that ever a post for another day.
I can't tell if it's normal mom-tired, or if it's more than that. I have no frame of reference for this. I am always tired. If I get eight hours of sleep, I wake up feeling groggy and drowsy, and definitely not rested. I fall asleep while driving at least three times a week. If I sit still for longer than about ten minutes, I will fall asleep. I don't have the energy to shower some days. I could cheerfully go to bed at eight every night, and still probably wake up tired. I drag. I yawn. My head is fuzzy. It's not just a physical tired, it's also a mental tired. I drag my ass around behind me in a sling every day. Remember when your first kid was new and colicky and you never got any sleep, ever, but were still trying to work full-time and commute and figure out what to do with the new small person in your house who screamed for hours on end every night? Newborn tired? I am newborn tired. Trouble is, my newborn will be two in a few months.
I also get headaches. I've always had headaches. All my life, since middle school or so, I have always gotten headaches. In a normal week, I'd say I have a headache 3-5 days out of 7. That's normal to me. It doesn't faze me. That's just the way my body is - I'm used to it by now. Lots of times, they're tension headaches, down there in the back of the skull, right at the top of the neck. Other times, they're in my eyes - I have horrible eyesight, and sometimes when my prescription needs updating, I get headaches. Occasionally, I get migraines. When I don't have caffeine by amout 10 am, I get a headache. Too much red wine? Headache.
This all seems very nornal to me. It's just a part of who I am, what my life is like. Husband, on the other hand, thinks that it's all part of something larger. He's convinced that I'm sick with something. Who knows what - something that gives you headaches and makes you tired. And he's tired, too - tired of listening to me complain, tired of me not feeling good, tired of putting up with me when I'm like this. It's gotten to the point that I don't like to even let him know what I'm feeling - I'm afraid if he thinks I'm sick too much, he'll leave me for someone with more energy, someone who feels great all the time.
This post has no point except for me to voice my worry that Husband is going to leave me because he's tired of me being sick and tired. And I don't know that he would do that - but I don't know that he wouldn't.* It's only up here because I have to post something every day, and that's what's on my mind right now. I wish I felt better - I wish I had the energy to care.
*Wow, is that ever a post for another day.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Guilt redux
Well, my day of hedonistic pleasure is officially caput. It was nice while it lasted.
I should tell you that the girls daycare/preschool had a turkey lunch today that parents were invited to attend. It's not a big fancy feast, just a sort of family sit-down thing with kids and parents. From my perspective, not a lot of parents come, because if the parents were available for lunch, then the kids probably wouldn't be in school for the day. They'd be home, together.
Long story short, I'm home all day, not at work, but the kids are at school so that I can get grading done. And relax. And grade (117 papers in the last hour and a half. I'm on a roll). I had said that I would go to the turkey-fest, and then I didn't. I didn't go. I said I would, and I didn't. I was sleeping. Soundly. With a cat. I am the world's worst mother.
I know Tank won't notice, and I'm not sure if the Bear will make a big deal of it or not. If she does, we'll have a special treat to make up for it. She gets these things.
But my MIL called, from work, specifically to ask me how it went. And when I told her I didn't go, she sounded heartbroken. Like I had let her down. Like it was some sort of huge failing. She was sad. *SHE* was sad, because *I* didn't go. Not sad that I missed out on a cute children bonding experience. No, sad for my kids because they have such an uncaring, unfeeling slacker mother. She feels sorry that my kids have me, lazy sloppy unfeeling poorly medicated crazy old me, for a mom.
And you know what? Now I feel sorry for them, too. My own mother never missed a damn thing I did. Not one. And I can't even show up to sit down and eat a turkey sandwich with two dozen three year olds.
I have to go get ready now. I have a date with my old friend, Guilt. I hope he didn't bring Anxiety with him. I'm not up for a threesome tonight, and I haven't shaved my legs.
I should tell you that the girls daycare/preschool had a turkey lunch today that parents were invited to attend. It's not a big fancy feast, just a sort of family sit-down thing with kids and parents. From my perspective, not a lot of parents come, because if the parents were available for lunch, then the kids probably wouldn't be in school for the day. They'd be home, together.
Long story short, I'm home all day, not at work, but the kids are at school so that I can get grading done. And relax. And grade (117 papers in the last hour and a half. I'm on a roll). I had said that I would go to the turkey-fest, and then I didn't. I didn't go. I said I would, and I didn't. I was sleeping. Soundly. With a cat. I am the world's worst mother.
I know Tank won't notice, and I'm not sure if the Bear will make a big deal of it or not. If she does, we'll have a special treat to make up for it. She gets these things.
But my MIL called, from work, specifically to ask me how it went. And when I told her I didn't go, she sounded heartbroken. Like I had let her down. Like it was some sort of huge failing. She was sad. *SHE* was sad, because *I* didn't go. Not sad that I missed out on a cute children bonding experience. No, sad for my kids because they have such an uncaring, unfeeling slacker mother. She feels sorry that my kids have me, lazy sloppy unfeeling poorly medicated crazy old me, for a mom.
And you know what? Now I feel sorry for them, too. My own mother never missed a damn thing I did. Not one. And I can't even show up to sit down and eat a turkey sandwich with two dozen three year olds.
I have to go get ready now. I have a date with my old friend, Guilt. I hope he didn't bring Anxiety with him. I'm not up for a threesome tonight, and I haven't shaved my legs.
Hedonistic Pleasures
Sometimes a girl feels the need to indulge, you know?
It's my day off. Everyone else is at work or school. I got an extra day of turkey vacation. So far today I've:
slept in*
taken the girls to school
came back home
went back to bed
slept til noon
had Taco Bell for lunch
watched some Law & Order
not graded a single one of the 5872 papers in my bag
Life is good. Really, really good. After yesterday, I wanted to relax and enjoy myself. And I have.
Now I'm going to grade papers. Promise. But I'm not going to beat myself up if I don't get them all done. Life's too short.
*til 6:30! The sun was already up!
It's my day off. Everyone else is at work or school. I got an extra day of turkey vacation. So far today I've:
slept in*
taken the girls to school
came back home
went back to bed
slept til noon
had Taco Bell for lunch
watched some Law & Order
not graded a single one of the 5872 papers in my bag
Life is good. Really, really good. After yesterday, I wanted to relax and enjoy myself. And I have.
Now I'm going to grade papers. Promise. But I'm not going to beat myself up if I don't get them all done. Life's too short.
*til 6:30! The sun was already up!
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