Just Now

I've made myself breakfast: yummy eggs and toast. I sit down to eat. JUST THEN Lew runs up covered in something: oh my god you're covered in liquid shit! Call for help. Try to return to breakfast. JUST THEN cat runs upstairs and starts barfing right at my feet. Decide to never eat again.

Side effects

Two days in a row of working out 6 a.m. = 5 p.m. hallucinations and asking strange questions like: Who just poured the milk? Was it me? I don't remember. I could have also just been sleeping with my eyes open. Again.

Fight Club

Oh. My. God. So. Tonight I went to my kicking and punching classes but this time, I fought a guy. And he punched me in the face. And I got to punch him in the face (though, he was much better at blocking my jabs so I never REALLY connected). And then he kicked the shit out of me and then I got to kick the shit out of him (um, less so cause I'm smaller and far less experienced). If you look deep into my eyes you will see puppies humping rainbows. I'm that happy. Sore. A little bruised. And kinda questioning my mind. But content.

Questions

There are some questions I hear Everyday, many times a day. Let me share them with you.

1. Is it Friday today? How many days until Friday?

2. Is today March Break? When is March Break?

3. Did you pack my lunch?

4. Where's Daddy? Where's Dexter? Where's Neville?

5. Where are my mittens/hat/boots/blankie/underwear/pants?

6. Can I play?

7. I'm hungry. Can I have some food?

8. Is it time to go to school?

9. Can I go downstairs?

10. Can I hold your hand?

How to: Make bad decisions.

Have someone say: Let's meet at the gym tomorrow at 5 pm! Have me counter with: that's when I deal with children! How about Early morning? What time does the gym open? Plan to meet people at the gym at 6 a.m. At 4 p.m. in the afternoon this is an awesome idea as I don't need sleep. I'll never feel tired.

Note: The only time I got up and went for a run at 6 a.m. my body was all "you are a fucking jerk, this is the worst idea you've ever had...running? c'mon! no. wrong. I refuse to participate in this activity." I'm going to barf on everyone, I know it. Then cry. And call them really terrible names. That's what happened the last time I interfaced with the public before 7:30 a.m. And the worst part? I suppose I have to go to bed early. Sigh.

This was perhaps a terrible idea. I'm going to bed. I hate tomorrow.

Postscript: well, because I knew I had to wake up at 5:59 for my 6 am work out, I woke up at 4. Be PREPARED! On the plus side, it seems better to be up before the kids rather than have them pull you (kicking and screaming) out of bed. AND I've already accomplished something, technically while I was sleeping. Bad Idea turning into Good Idea? We'll see.

Shout Out

Alright, this is for my townie friends:

Join my Brand *NEW* Roller Derby League! Skate DATE: Last week of April.

For ALL the information you need to come and play too,

email: kingstonrollergirls@gmail.com

It will be rad. I promise you.

When Men Leave Town

When the men leave town all hell breaks loose. It is always this way for me. Maybe it's because the children then really outnumber the left behind parent (if you have three children) and the universe gets testy/bored/excited and wonders What If? What if I break down her car or give everyone mouthal and anal vomiting (all at once) or make a blizzard at -40 degrees or loose her keys or maybe a pregnancy scare? Everyone loves those. Anyway, I survived my recent abandonment, I mean, single parenting experience (barely). But my neighbour: her husband is not even gone 12 hours and she is calling me with an emergency! Seriously universe...c'mon. And while we wait for the ambulance I'm thinking, sweet lord jesus, no one is sleeping in my house tonight, all Five Children that I'm now responsible for. Might as well roast a chicken. So much for not drinking today.

UPDATE: kid's got Croup. Damn that dirty jerk Croup.

Family Day

Today is Family Day, which means that if you didn't buy milk yesterday and this morning you used the very last of it for your third cup of coffee, you are shit out of luck because all the people who run the stores are at home with their families. This comes after Valentine's Day which comes after my birthday. Both of which I spent with my family (some of it actually awake and a bunch of it asleep). Like Valentine's Day which demands you be romantic, demanding me to spend time with my family (by the provincial government) makes me rebel, like any proper teenager would. So I've come to work. Which I'll start doing right after I eat this cake left over from my birthday.

BIRTHDAY

FEB 13th I turn some variant of 30. I don't know how I feel about this.

All Time High Point

Tonight I went home to Power-Up: had a beer AND chocolate covered candy. Wondering if I should feel ashamed. Feel kinda good inside. Really.

Today's Motto

There's nothing I can do.

Sunday

Does mixing skim milk with melted butter equal whole milk? What about skim milk with sour creme? And why is my three-year-old insane?

How to: accidently give yourself a great day

Receive your Income Tax Refund check. Keep it in a safe place (i.e., shoved in a stack of papers and other misc. things). Organize (um, straighten) said stack various times throughout the year: seriously, at least 10 times. While "re-organizing" the pile, Rediscover Refund Check! Six months later. Surprise the Crap out of yourself. Feel like you've won the lottery (although, feel mildly concerned you had completely forgotten about such a large sum of money). Spend the next two hours looking for more!

Hair Report to you: Oh My God

I want to cut my hair. Iwanttocutmyhair. The last time I had hair this length, my drunk roommate cut it all off in a fit of "let's see what will happen" and I walked around for several days looking like a hobo. I couldn't stand it any more: the length, the life, the me. Hard to say. And thus my 12 year odyssey of self cut short hair began. But Now! Now I pay for haircuts and wash my hair and make plans for it (left part? right part? hat?). What a waste of time.

Sometimes my hair looks like this.

Once I took my hat off and this happened.

Love Thursday

Today I told my boss that life was seriously kicking me in the nuts. To which he responded: "You don't have nuts, Sweetie." Then I swooned. From the word sweetie. As if he had just said "everything is okay" so convincingly and then picked me up off the floor and held onto me until I stopped sobbing.

Sometimes, being a grown-up is almost too hard.

ZIPPERS

Can Suck It.

Dawn of the Near Dead

The Trip Karma is really kicking me in the balls (followed up by a round-house kick to the spleen). Lew has Croup. Know what you do when a kid has Croup? You stay up all night. Right now I'm dabbing my nose with a tissue (cause my brain keeps dripping out) whilst simultaneously pouring caffeine into my face hole, wraggling snowsuits, punching the cat, finding my socks, and wondering how the fuck I'm going to make it (I'm sure once the pain killers take effect I'll be aces). Awesomely, fantastically, thank-fucking-ly, he seemed fit enough to go to daycare which leaves me fit to sit at my desk and lapse in and out of coma.

Ready, Set: wait. uh oh.

Well, it's day one of The Revenge Trip and it started with a bang! That would be, the sound in my head when my new boyfriend (more on that later) came to pick up his visiting kid last night and said: "hahahahah, so no school tomorrow? lucky kids." I was all "what the crap? no school. stop being so silly you big silly pants, it's monday. of course they have school." And then he says IT like it's no big deal: "yeah, tomorrow's a PA day." Then I fainted. I don't know what PA stands for but in my mind PA = an extra long weekend with no childcare. Which I don't like by the way. I like my job. It is quiet. There are no children. And no one poops their pants (usually). And When Monday comes around I'm all "I need a break. Send me to work." Fucking spontaneous PA days (which are incidently marked on a calendar on the fridge but whatever). Seriously, most 12 year-olds are more on top of things than me.

In the end it worked out and I found last minute childcare. He says her name is "Cindy" and I've asked him, I mean her, to please not smoke in the house (or at least crack a window and keep your back to the kids). I'm sure the boys will be fine. Hahaha. Just kidding (sort of). And honestly, I'm kind of sad that I didn't get to tell the story of how I showed up for school only to find there wasn't any. Now THAT would have been funny. Eventually.