Ok, so this post ought to perfectly describe how this week works for me. Yeah, it’s funny and only slightly exaggerated. The truth of the matter is that I dread this week with a passion only rivaled by Miss Britt’s addiction to shoes.

This is the week where I become convinced that my life is in the toilet, all is hopeless, and that my husband is an even bigger asshole than I was previously convinced he was. It’s a dark, sad, angry week. It’s oh so funny to imagine a stapler poking out of my husband’s head and wishing someone would invent a contraption that would allow me to send some sort of electric volt directly into each of my children’s butt cheeks by remote control, because let’s face it, shock collars are so “1980 called and they’d like their Judas Priest get up back.”

But, the sad truth is that I will undoubtedly pour myself a glass of red wine, climb the stairs to my sanctuary (aka bedroom) flip on a lovely, unemotional documentary and then attempt to forget all about back aches, bloating, migraines, cramps, acne breakouts, telephones, business, children, messes, laundry, the husband (unless he wants to provide that long promised back rub), and the rest of life’s little stresses that are just too much, no matter how insignificant, this week.

I’ll listen to some sad songs, cry, eat too many carbs, have another glass of wine and then fall into a, hopefully, dreamless sleep.

Last year I discussed with my doctor how horrible my PMS symptoms are. She suggested doubling my anti-anxiety, anti-depression meds during this week. Until I described the symptoms I have outside of that week, then she decided to double them full-time. Strangely enough, I don’t see much, if any, difference during this week - but the rest of the time I’m pretty cool.

*sigh*

I’m convinced that no matter how sympathetic they think they are - men have NO idea what women go through just to ensure the continuance of the human race.

Fuckers and their abilities to pee standing up, inability to bear children, and complete lack of PMS/periods.

Or something like that…

The surface appears superficial, like a plastic mask with a permanent happy face. Fun and games, silly pictures and ridiculous pet stories. That’s me.

Then I come out of the blue with stuff like yesterday’s post and you see that maybe the waters run a little deeper than they originally appeared.

Oh ho! Not so… I am just as shallow as you thought I was the day before yesterday!

Ladies - here is a little something to get you to the end of the week. Drooling is totally acceptable as they are totally over 18!!

Thank God/Goddess that school is OUT OUT OUT. Finals are over and another summer vacation has begun. Well, not for me, but for the kids at least. Still… they’ll be around a lot (minus their annual vacation with my mom) and I am totally looking forward to that.

Anyway, kid/mom stuff aside I’m ready to bore you with more of my favorite things… aren’t you excited?

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The mother of TWO teenagers. Happy Birthday, Katie!!!

Kate celebrated by venturing back to the time when I was thirteen. Girls arrived at our house Saturday night with all forms of crimping, plastic jewelry and side pony tails. It was AWESOME! My mom ran by to bring Kate the perfect 80’s earrings and said something about it reminding her of Amy - The Junior High Years. Pfft. WhatEVER!

They watched Weird Science, Sixteen Candles, Pretty In Pink, and Dirty Dancing. They painted their own t-shirts and baseball caps and were still up and going strong around 3am.

In short, the party was a success.

Dear Self,

While I applaud any and all efforts you make to free yourself from the chains of depression, I must really insist that you try to behave sensibly. I know, I know, we talked about it and decided that exercise would be a very good thing and music too, absolutely!

But, was it absolutely necessary to dance naked in front of the bathroom mirror while singing “Love Touch” by Rod Stewart? You do realize that it is possible to get your heart rate up WITH clothes on, don’t you?

I’m well aware that meditation is good for the body, mind and soul, definitely. But, did it have to involve incense and enough chanting for Maggie to ask you from under the bedroom door if you were ok?

And, yes, freedom for all. Free your soul, free your mind, free your spirit, I’m every bit as esoteric as you are darling, but this no bra wearing thing? Really? I mean… the girls have a daily round of gin rummy with your knees!

Oh, and one last thing? Could we master, ummm, I dunno maybe a basic yoga stance before we leap right into tantric sex positions? Hmmm? Maybe? Ya think?

Greaaaaat.

Good talk. Goooood talk.

Love,
The Queen

I subscribe to:

Better Homes and Gardens
Family Circle
Traditional Home

I’m also addicted to catalogs. I arrange them into neat stacks under my favorite reading chair. One stack has pages flagged with things I am more likely to buy, the other stack is the first to get thrown out.

I can’t get into scrapbooking. I’d like to… I really would. They have cute stuff for scrapbooking at the craft store, but I just don’t think I can be that organized.

I used to make my own soap… no really, I did. With lye, essential oils, etc. etc. Why don’t I now? Meh… it takes too much patience, measuring, etc.

I haven’t been there in a couple of weeks, but I am slightly addicted to Pogo. I’ve actually found that playing the games over there can be a huge stress release. It’s a great way for me to clear my head and exercise my brain in other directions.

This is my Pogo mini.

As mad as I was when I stomped down the stairs I caught him through the window out of the corner of my eye. He had stopped to finish a conversation on his cell phone before getting into his truck. He was facing the house with his new sunglasses on leaning on the bed of the truck.

And as mad as I was… he still got to me. I choked up a bit and then got even more mad at him for getting to me on top of being a jerk.

Later when I thought about it I flashed back to that “accidental” meeting at the mall many, many years ago. He had the sexiest blond highlights (completely natural of course), a twinkle in his icy blue eyes, and the most sexy, mischievous grin.

Sometimes it’s easy to go through the day to day activities and forget little things. Like the way he runs his fingers through his hair, or the way he smells after a shower, or the way he laughs this wicked little chuckle that reminds me of my grandpa.

And, sometimes it’s pretty cool when you remember those good things at just the right moment. Like, for example while you are working up a list of ingredients to go in his dinner that night.

Those sunglasses probably saved his entire digestive tract.

To put it ever so lightly, Mike and I were not seeing eye-to-eye. I thought he was a complete dick and he didn’t. Annnyyyway, upset, depressed, angry, and nearly heartbroken *insert smirk here* - I popped my ear buds in and switched to the only type of music suitable for the occasion.

I ran downstairs and started a post, was interrupted by 2 kids and decided it could wait for another time. Deep in the throes of a Keith Whitley ballad (any guesses which one?) I flung open my bedroom door, walked straight across to the window, dramatically threw back the drapes and turned out the light. The room glowed with the light from the baseball fields behind the school a couple of blocks away. I plopped into my favorite chair still enjoying the music when a black shape came toward me from the bed…

From the depths of the chair (it’s an Adirondack style) I tried to fend off my would-be attacker and get out of the chair at the same time. It was about that time that Ethan reached over and turned the light back on with a very amused smile on his face.

Apparently, during my dramatic entrance I had missed my son (who is coming down with something suspiciously flu-like) rummaging through Mike’s nightstand where we store several of our DVDs.

Ok, so I had this nifty little post written up about me getting a little insecure over something one of the kids said yesterday.

My 4 year old daughter got a little miffed at me. It would seem telling her that I don’t consider ice cream to be a suitable appetizer for dinner irritated her just a teensy, weensy bit. Hard to imagine anyone getting miffed at me and yet, there she was… seriously pissed.

That’s when she said it.

“Fine then, Mom, you’re just a stupid, old, lady!!!”

I thought this was really funny albeit slightly unnerving, not seriously unnerving, just, “Ha ha, I’m 32 and my daughter said I was old… heh… hmm” unnerving. So I wrote this ha ha, semi-exaggerated post about the word “old” echoing in my head, blah blah, small chuckle funny. All done in a very tongue-in-cheek sort of way. Obviously, I’m well aware that 32 is NOT old.

Pleased with my silly post I called my husband in to read it. I was hoping for a little smirk, maybe a snort, possibly even a chuckle. I was a little disappointed, to say the least. After Mike half-assedly skimmed over my post I discovered that when you are 43 years old it’s not funny to hear your 32 year old wife joke about freaking out that her daughter called her old.

Know why?

I’ve got a pretty good suspicion that at least one of the thoughts running through his head sounded a lot like, “If Maggie called mommy “old” what will she call daddy who is already sporting some gray in his beard? Santa Claus?”

Definitely something worse than old, I’m sure. If I know Maggie (and I’m sure I do) it will definitely be worse.

Sometimes the universe just decides you need a damn break. (note to the universe - I am infinitely grateful for said break! MuchoThankos!)

My new phone should be here by tomorrow or Monday. Although it took roughly a dozen or so emails to FINALLY get through to a decent customer service rep who actually cared about doing his job. That wasn’t cleared up until yesterday.

My new camera came in yesterday!!! A huge upgrade from my last one… it’s so awesome it’s almost erotic!

Aside from a half-ass bout of PMS… I’m feeling like the clouds are parting a bit.

I also have to thank my son for the following, if it were not for his current obsession I wouldn’t have a kick ass song stuck in my head, this is absolutely the most perfect song to end the week on, enjoy!