Wednesday, January 04, 2006

Missing my holiday naps

CLB, who missed his MOMMAMOMMAMOMMAMOMMA all day yesterday, has been a dollbaby today. CBB walked right in this morning like he'd never spent a day away. CBG, on the other hand, seems to have me confused with Hitler, Martha Stewart or Satan himself because SHE HATES ME. I'm hoping that it'll just take one day to make her like me again, like it only took CLB one day to like me again. *sigh* She's precious and all, she just hates me. Too bad Abby went to school today - maybe she could've helped.

Last night I was in one of the worst moods I've been in in a long time. I'm guessing it's hormones, I have no other explanation. I went from July to December without a period and now I feel like I have MegaPMSExtreme or something. The hormones are raging a war the likes men have never seen, with battles staked out in my pituitary gland, ovaries and quite possibly my left big toe for all I know. For all you men, sorry about that TMI there. I'm venting, you know.

Anyway, back to the bad mood. Paul walked in from work, said something smartallecky and all that came out of my mouth in reply was, "I baked you some cookies today, jerkface." He stopped in his tracks, opened his mouth like he was going to say something, thought better of it and then quickly left the room. He's getting smarter, that man of mine. THANKFULLY he called me while the kids and I were at McDonald's (what a better way to top off a horrible mood but to eat McPoo for dinner) and said he was going to Men's Night with Bub. I really didn't want to spend the evening with him. I guess he won a boatload of money, too. Even better.

By the time the kids and I left McHell (Where we ate for .42 - thank you Papa Jim and Grandma Ginger for the Arch Cards) we drove directly to the dojo where I walked my son in, told Sensei to beat him, hang him up by his thumbnails or make him do 6 trillion pushups, I didn't really care. Sensei smiled and said, "Hmh. Ready for Christmas break to be over with?" Dryly I replied, "You have no idea. I'll pick him up in an hour. Maybe." And then Tater, the girls and I went to Wal*Mart. Oh yes, the evening just kept getting better and better. I had $2.95 in the checkbook and, just so you know, a half-gallon of milk costs $1.77. I didn't over draw the checkbook to buy milk. Whoohoo. Of course, that half gallon of milk is already gone and it's 2 in the afternoon.

After karate, Tater and the kids and I went to Papa's house because he had been bugging Mom to death that he wanted us to bring the kids over. He gave us adults each $20 and the kids each $5 for Christmas. Then he proceded to clean out his desk drawers and we came home with 3 flashlights and some keychains. I also checked the almanac while I was there to see when to wean because Jen doesn't believe that it works and while I was browsing, checked the weather forecast for January - "January 1-3: Snow." Yesterday's high was 73. After seeing Papa, we went next door to Mom's where I just pretty much yelled at the children a lot.

After that merriment the kids and I came home, I sent the two big ones straight to the shower and the little one to get her pj's on, stuffed about 5 chocolate chip cookies in my mouth, took a swig of strawberry wine and sat in the recliner, pouting and waiting until I could tuck the little darlings in for the night. They were in bed and asleep by 9:15. I watched Whose Line is it Anyway, which usually makes me laugh out luod. I didn't even crack a smile. I considered watching The 40-Year-Old Virgin, but figured it'd just make me mad, the mood I was in. I decided to check my email then, hoping to find something happy and delightful. I didn't find anything delightful, but I at least know where to look if I want to enlarge my p3n1s.

Mom called me while I was on the internet. The message on the Callwave was: "Kristin, this is your mother. Abby left her turquoise jacket at my house. Please do not beat her for this. Thank you."

I called her back and told her that Abby would indeed not get a beating, but only because she was already in bed. Lucky kid. Then Mom read me a poem called "When You Thought I Wan't Looking" and made me cry. Great stuff, this guilt.

So after that I took a shower and went to bed. I woke up briefly when Paul told me that Bub's van was overheating and he was taking him home and the next thing I know the alarm was going off at 6. Paul even slept on the couch, bless his heart. I think he was afraid I would dismember him if he rolled over the wrong way during the night. I probably would've.

I feel a little more emotionally stable today. Not a lot, but I at least don't feel like running to the barn, hiding in the boat, chain smoking and drinking myself blind.

5 comments:

MrsCoach2U said...

I'd laugh but the same hormal thing is happening with me too. Add 10 high school boys who are too untalented for words to mixture and you've got my life! Oh and dont' forget to add in the incredibly bubbly cheerleaders, who could forget them and their fruit scented lotions???!!!


P.S. WV is pooptied! I guess we could be Pooptied along with it!

Stacie said...

Oh, yeah, baby. Been there. Monday morning, to be exact. Shael's cousin Shania (the most irritating girl in our family at the moment) had spent the night with us Sunday night. Monday morning Mike got up to fix supper since it was obvious that I wasn't going to do anything but stay in bed and watch What Not To Wear. I finally got up to help him and I must've barked a few commands that I wasn't even aware of because Mike said "Oh, boy. Oh, boy." I looked at him and snapped "What are you oh, boy-ing about?" and he asked in the sweetest of voices (even though it made me want to dig his heart out with a dull spoon) "Aren't you in a good mood?" Sum'bitch!

Stacie said...

Oops, to fix breakfast. LOL!

Hillbilly Mom said...

I wish my HH would run away when I'm mad. But no, he thinks he can stay and fight. Let's just throw some gasoline on the fire, huh? Silly man. Doesn't he know that if Hillbilly Mom ain't happy, nobody is happy?

Jerzeegrrl said...

Days like that suck big time.