I'm Just So... Tired

I should have been in bed a long time ago. Typically by the time 10pm rolls around, I am just barely functioning. Yet, tonight, I find that I'm not the least bit tired. I'm already fully aware that when my alarm goes off in the morning I will be addressing it with a heavy hand and several expletives, but I don't feel much like laying there tossing and turning at the moment.

It was just one of those hard day. You know the kind where you wish desperately that you could just bury your head in the sand and pretend that the world around you doesn't exist? I started out on the wrong side of the bed this morning and proceeded to stay there the remainder of the day. It certainly did not help that my boss was in a debating sort of mood and that we keep going round and round on the same project for weeks now. He's constantly changing his mind on the functionality of the spreadsheet we're working with and I'm sorry, but you can only redo it so many times before you start feeling a little frazzled.

It's not just that though. I've been feeling anxious for months. It's strange, because I have always loved being a working woman and I have fought long and hard to get where I am... But lately, my heart just isn't in it. I have a great job and I should not be complaining about it, but I can't seem to get straight with working lately. My mother tried for years to convince me to not work, to live with her, to stay home and be with Lena. I always sort of despised the fact that she didn't work once we were all old enough and in school. She could have gotten a job, or at least I always thought she could. But I'm starting to understand just how tricky it is to keep balancing it all.

Point blank, I'm tired. I'm not entirely sure when or how I lost my drive to be a corporate woman with a fancy title. It always seemed so important in the past. I always felt like I had to prove something to myself and to others. That I didn't need to have finished college to be smart and support my daughter. I always felt that I was setting the right example for my daughter to be independent and to have a great work ethic. Those are the values my father instilled in me growing up and I have always felt it was important to teach Lena the same values. Honestly, I still believe those are the right things to teach her. Even knowing that and believing that, I have still lost some of my go-get-'um gusto and I'm not entirely sure how to get it back.

 There has been no time at all to just relax and enjoy the kids either. Every weekend is booked ahead of time with multiple family obligations. Last weekend we had a family party to celebrate birthdays, this weekend we're celebrating the same birthdays with the other half of my family which requires a 2 hour trip both ways up north, and the weekend following that we're celebrating family birthdays and Thanksgiving with James' family before his brother-in-law goes in for his surgery. My house is a mess, Lena is behind in reading, there is no free weekend in sight, we didn't even get to carve pumpkins this year, and I feel like there is literally no time to just breathe.

I know that James is feeling the pressure too. He was passed out on the couch by 8:15 tonight and was completely dead to the world. Lena even tried waking him up, but he didn't budge. I give him a serious amount of credit though, he's under just as much pressure as I am and yet he doesn't let it get the best of him. He's been Mr. Glass Half Full and he keeps reminding me that it will get better when we move. Our commute to and from work and to and from his kids is killing us. We both work 50 minutes away from our home and coincidentally Anne and Paige live in the town between our jobs. When you add in Anne's softball schedule and Paige's work schedule we're making the trip to and from 7 days a week and on some days, more than once. He's convinced that when we move closer this upcoming summer that a lot of the anxiety I'm feeling will melt away.

All I can do is hope he's right. And he very well might be. He knows that a lot of my recent stress is the distance from Lena during the day and not being able to be present for the small things like lunch at school. When I first moved to Indiana I was only 15 minutes away from her and my boss was supportive and understanding if I needed to take an extended lunch or leave early every now and then. I was heart broken when the company was sold, but I didn't really feel the full effect. It was different when my mom was a couple blocks away, I never worried or thought about the distance really. Now that she's not there, it's constantly on the forefront of my mind.

I am trying to pull myself up by my bootstraps, because I know that I'm doing the right thing. But sometimes, you just don't want to.

Mommy's Morning Meltdown

Lena and I parted ways this morning with neither one of us very happy with the other. Today is her school Halloween party. She choose to be an Eskimo Princess this year, so this morning I thought it would be perfect to put her hair in braided pigtails.

I know that she's not particularly fond of pigtails, she's convinced they're too babyish, and she hasn't let me put her hair in them in years! However, I felt that it would fit her costume perfectly. Just once, I wanted her to not argue with me. I figured, it's just for dress up so why so why not right? Boy, was I wrong!

She put up a fuss over the whole thing. Long heavy sighs, rolling eyes, whining, the whole nine yards. Incidentally, this only fueled my determination to do it. I finally got her to hold still long enough to put them in and she looked adorable! Even though she was grumbling the whole time, at least she didn't attempt to tear her hair out.

She's also very anti photos these days as well. This is what I managed to get this morning...

The look on her face is what finally tipped me over the edge. I just wanted one good picture. She may not be overly enthusiastic about it, but my family would be. Her aunts, her grandparents, they would love to see her. This fake, bullshit (excuse my language, but it is) smile, caused me to become completely unglued.

"It's not always about what you want! Sometimes, you have to think about the people who love you and would be excited to see how cute you look. No one is going to make fun of you at school. They match your costume for crying out loud. Do you know how many girls would kill to have hair long enough to do that with?" Yeah, mommy went a little psycho.

She didn't cry, but her face did get really red and she stopped speaking to me. I didn't even get a goodbye when she got onto the bus.

There Goes That Mother of The Year Award!

If you're looking for a sure fire way to feel like the world's shittiest mom, attend a parent teacher conference. Then ice that with a thick layer of mommy works too much guilt trip.

I always dread going to a parent teacher conferences. I brace myself for them telling me time and time again that Lena is too social and prefers to chatter with her friends instead of completing her assignments. I'm all too aware that my daughter is not exactly a prized self-starter when it comes to work. Be it at school or at home, it requires an extreme amount of coaxing (and sometimes yelling) to motivate her to accomplish tasks that do not interest her. I walked into the conference last night expecting her teacher to give me the run down on tasks Lena drug out due to her constant state of verbal diarrhea.

At first I was pleasantly surprised when she assured me that was not an issue. And then the moment arrived where I felt like the trusting idiot on Survivor... BLINDSIDE! Lena may not be talking her head off, but she's also not comprehending what she reads either.As her teacher slid the results of the practice standardized test across the desk I could feel my heart racing and my mouth grow dry. Lena didn't pass. She's below average. If we don't correct this problem by the real test date, thanks to the no child left behind rule, my daughter will be repeating 5th grade.

She scored in the top percentile on math again, but you have to have two oars to row the 5th grade boat and currently she's paddling in circles. I refuse to let her be held back and while I wanted to burst into tears right there, I swallowed my heart back down and asked what I needed to do. The teacher told me that she needs to read at home and that I need to get her to think deeper about what she's reading. She can read the words just fine, but she's not retaining the information. She advised that I choose books with a ZPD of 3.5 - 5.5 and sent me on my way.

Me being me, immediately when I got home I went in search of a reading list. Catch this folks, there isn't one! The great state of Indiana uses the ZPD system, however, not a single publisher out there actually scores their books that way. Helpful, right? I did manage to find a chart for Reading Comfort Level that took the not-so-handy ZPD level and translated it into the corresponding Grade Equivalent Score. Which, by the way, is how books are actually classified for children. Armed with this new school system decoder ring, I started cross referencing the good old Scholastic Book Club only to receive the second punch in the stomach for the evening. Ultimately I discovered she has a 3rd grade reading level. That's the kind of books that fit into her recommended category. At that moment all I could think was HOW IN THE HELL DID THEY NOT CATCH THAT LAST YEAR???????

You would think that her 4th grade teacher might have mentioned something in our conferences. Hell, she could have sent a note home saying she was concerned. Something. Anything. Now she's lost an entire year that we could have been working on this issue. I knew she didn't like to read, but I didn't know she was having problems. It makes sense now. Instead of admitting she was having trouble, she just shrugged it off like she didn't enjoy it. Not that it eases the extreme amount of garbage parent that I feel like at the moment.

I know I'm not a mind reader, but I still should have known. I should have pressed harder. I should have dug deeper. I should have forced the issue a little more. Instead, I assumed because she is certainly more mathematically inclined that her lack of enthusiasm for reading was probably normal. I'm passionate about reading and writing and while I can do math... I prefer not to if I can help it. I just assumed that Lena was the same way with opposite subjects. Evidently my apple fell a little further from the tree than I thought.

As I sat with her and explained that we will need to read for at least 30 minutes every night she burst into tears. I assured her that I would be reading whatever book she is and that we would work through this together. This did not seem to console her at all. Instead she kept crying and told me that reading will take away all the time she has with me at night. "I barely get to see you, you're always at work. By the time you get home all I ever get to do is eat dinner, shower, and do my homework. Now I'll have even less time to spend with you every night!" Way to make mommy feel like a complete ass, thanks kid. Ultimately, I know it's not about spending time with me or not, it's about the fact that she equates reading with medieval torture. However, it still tugged at my heart strings and irritated the already large amount of guilt I feel because I do work. At the moment though, I can't change that fact. Believe me, I'm trying to find a job I can telecommute.

Once I finally got her to stop her tears, we started looking at what we could read together. The only books that held any interest to her at all are the Series of Unfortunate Events. She's currently working on book 4, although I'm seriously second guessing how much of the stories she's actually read and retained. I'm halfway tempted to make her go back and reread them all. James is picking up the first three of them for me from Paige so I can start reading them and catch up to where she is. If I'm going to help her, I'm going to have to roll my sleeves up and dive into the stories too. How else are we going to talk about them if I don't even know what we're talking about?

Lemony Snickets... Here I come.

The Best Presents End in Tears

It's been a very busy weekend around our house. Yesterday we celebrated Lena's, Paige's, and my sister Frissy's birthday with my family.

I have lots of photos from the party, which I will get around to putting up in the next couple of days. In the meantime though, I wanted to share our gift to my sister. My sister Frissy is an amazing person. When she was younger, she was the family wild child. However, she's long since grown out of her rebellious teen angst phase and transformed into one of the kindest, most responsible, and one of the hardest working people I know. I'm so proud of who she's grown into and I'm excited to see how she'll evolve in the years to come.

As you know, we're currently trying to purchase a home next summer, so the decision for the gift was certainly one James and I put some thought into. However, we both agreed that no one deserved it more than she did and he knows that she's always been my rock.

So we decided to contribute a piece to her upcoming wedding in August. Granted it's not even a dent in the cost to have 50 people at Brookfield Zoo sipping down cocktails with the dolphins, but we knew it would be a huge contribution anyway. We figured it would mean way more than a Starbucks gift card...

Surprise, She is Still Sweet!

I've been in a bit of a blogging lull this week. Truthfully, there's been nothing extremely eventful going on in the Nowhere household. The nice fall weather has faded away here in the Midwest this week and it's morphed into just plain cold speckled with frost. Cold weather makes us, me especially, a little lethargic. When I get up it's dark and now when I get home it's dark. Sorta puts a damper on my usual pep.

James has been working long hours and for the past couple days he's been out at my parent's house at night working on their car. My brilliant, but lost, youngest brother managed to back over something and drive the muffler up into the trunk. Talented right?? He finished the project of replacing it last night and I'm not sure who's more grateful... Him or my parents.

While he's been slaving away being a total sweetheart and helping out, I've been spending some quality bonding time with Lena. Mother daughter alone time is rare with a family of 5, so when the occasion arises I make the extra effort to really spend it focusing on her. Granted while most of it was centered around watching something on TV (again, we don't like cold and the couch blankie is our favorite), it was nice to be cuddled up with her and our spoiled rotten loved furries for several hours this week.

We also finally managed to get around to getting her costume. This went far better than expected. A few weeks back when we first started talking about potential ideas she had informed me she wanted to be "The Darkness." I love her to pieces, but sometimes she's just downright WEIRD!

Okay... So back to the pleasant costume surprise. As we browsed through the Halloween store, she loaded me up with plenty of creepy costumes: skeleton bride, dead cheerleader, bloody zombie.... AND...

I think I about fell over with joy when she chose not to be some terribly horrifying bloody dead creature! There really is a sweet child in there still... Somewhere.

I've been enjoying this sudden appearance this week of my sweet little girl. The one who doesn't want to be "The Darkness" and wants to cuddle up with her mommy. I'm pretty sure she's only here for a visit until she retreats back into her moody hormonal tween shell again, but I'll take what I can get when I can get it. Beggars can't be choosers right?

Parenting Your Parents

Originally I began this post over the weekend. However, after finishing it I was suddenly gripped with fear that my mother may some day find this blog and promptly deleted it. Today as I was reading some other blogs on lunch, I came across a guest post  Am I A Glass Child? on Finding Ninee. If you haven't read her blog, I recommend you click the link and follow her immediately! I found her because I'm currently reading
The Mother of All Meltdowns, which she helped contribute to.

Ultimately the story was to bring awareness to siblings of children with special needs. It brings to light how siblings can be affected too, but in telling this tale the anonymous guest shares her story and how she herself is a Glass Child. And as I read her story, it resonated with me, because I certainly fit into that category as well, but never knew there was a definition for it.

I'm very aware that there is no such thing as normal. I have never expected for real life to resemble the movie Pleasantville. Yet, I've always known that my family is, well, different. I have a collection of four parents - 3 living, 1 not - 2 biological and 2 step (though they're just mom and dad to me). This parental mix and match game has produced a total of 8 younger siblings. My dad and my step-mom had two, I have a step-sister from my step-dad, and my mom and my step-dad had 5. Yes, I know, it's a lot to keep up with! Trust me, I have trouble too.

For as long as I can remember, my mom has called me mom. She will be the first one to admit that I raised her. It's our family curse that one girl gives birth to another baby girl at nineteen. I'm the girl in my wave and my mother was the girl in her's. We grew up together, much the same way that Lena and I have. However, I have never felt that Lena has helped raise me. My Gramma insists that I was already 30 years old when I was born, even to this day.

This weekend produced yet another episode of me raising my mother. Friday she started sending me frantic text messages about needing my help because her and my dad (step-dad) were broke and hungry. Having 7 children under her care necessitated her being a stay at home mom and my dad worked to support our family. A couple years ago, my dad made the decision to pursue going on 100% disability instead of just partial, because his back just couldn't take the hard labor anymore and he was getting chronic migraines that lasted for days. While this has put them in the financial position of bringing in more income than James and I combined each month thanks to his time in the military and awesome benefits at work, somehow, every two weeks I get a phone call asking for a small loan to get them through to their next check. I'm not entirely sure where the hell it goes, but it doesn't last more than a few days when it arrives. My sisters reached their breaking points a long time ago with the constant phone calls for small loans here and there. I don't blame them, but it leaves me with the sole responsibility of bailing our parents out time and time again. Even knowing that a lot of their struggle is primarily self-inflicted, I still can't manage to tell my sobbing hysterical mother no when she calls to ask for help.

Friday was just another page in the never ending book of caring for my parents. It doesn't surprise me, it doesn't piss me off, I'm just numb to it after living in this endless cycle. It's all very wash, rinse, repeat, over here when it comes to bailing them out. But that's the role I've been given to play. I'm the good child, the mother, the caretaker, the savior, the shoulder to cry on.

Believe it or not, despite the constant strife they have with money, they're in a good place in their lives comparatively speaking. I remember times that were a whole lot worse than driving 50 minutes to take my mom to the grocery store. I think that's where the major difference comes in between me and my siblings, they were too little to remember a lot of the shit we went through. They don't remember my dad when he was unemployed and hopped up on cocaine. They don't remember my mom going out 4 or 5 nights a week to get wasted with her friend because she couldn't handle the stress of 4 kids in diapers and my dad falling asleep in a puddle of his own drool. What they do remember is me making their lunches for school in the morning. What they do remember is us running around outside all the time because any moment my parents were home was a moment that I didn't have to feed one of the twins or change a diaper. They remember that I'm their other mother and that they can turn to me any time mom starts getting a little crazy.

They all have their own memories of growing up dysfunctional with a bipolar mother who refuses to take her meds on a consistent basis. But they weren't old enough for real memories to form until a while after my mother's nervous breakdown and two year hiatus to San Francisco. At the time that she officially snapped, we'd lost the house we were living in and I chose to live with my dad and my other mom. I'm pretty sure my moving out with the straw that broke the per-verbally camel's back. In the blink of an eye, her rock, her co-parent, her friend, was gone.

Looking back, my mother believes with her whole heart that fate needed to put her through that for my benefit. At the time I made the choice to leave, no one knew that my dad was sick and that he was only going to have 4 more years with us. No one knew what a gift my family falling apart was giving me. I was just relieved to get away from all the drama and the opportunity to be a kid instead of a parent at 14 years old. Don't get me wrong though, I was eaten alive by the guilt of leaving my younger siblings, my babies, with two completely unstable people while I got to go off and live in happy well adjusted household with two parents that actually liked each other. Especially now, I'm more grateful than ever that I got to spend the last years my dad had living with him. I think it's those years that I spent with them that helped keep me sane and provided me with the examples I desperately need to raise Lena.

I'm pretty sure that this paints my mom as a monster and I want to assure you, she's not. I love her dearly and she's taught me a lot of good lessons in my life and has played a major role in helping me with Lena over the past decade. However, it took her a long time to get here. It took me a long time to forgive her for looking through me and depending on me to pick up the pieces where she fell short. One of my sisters has a venomous hatred for some of the things she's done and has a really hard time just accepting our mom for who she is. I'm hoping, that with age, will come forgiveness for her. I suppose time will tell.

I do love my mom and honestly, despite everything, I wouldn't trade her for the world. I've learned to take the good with the bad, I've learned that I can't change her into someone I want her to be, I've learned that sometimes it's just out of her control. I've also learned what it means to love someone more than yourself. I've learned that you can be all sorts of crazy and that you have to put that aside when you become a mom, because nothing, nothing is more important than giving your all to your child. I've learned that some people just have more all to give as well. I'm bound and determined that my daughter will not end up a Glass Child the same way I did.

I'm grateful for the close bond that I have with my siblings because it's filled my life with love and purpose and I couldn't ask for a better bunch to raise my daughter around. I can see a little piece of all of them in her and a little piece of me in all of them. They're my fate, Lena is my fate, and my mother, well she is too. It's just the hand I was dealt and I will continue to play the game until there is no longer a game to play. If I learned one thing in my life it's that it's too damn short to hold grudges and you have to love the family you're given unconditionally because you never know when they won't be there anymore.

Yes, I'm my mother's mother and this is one Glass Child who intends to parent the hell out of her for as long as I'm able.

No More Excuses

My alone time is coming to an end sadly. I have about 20 minutes before Lena gets home from school and my "me day" is officially closed. ::sigh::

I caught up on all my blog reading, watched my shows that have been stacking up on the DVR, talked to my step-mom for over an hour on the phone, and while I originally said I wasn't going to get out of my jammies... I did. As I sat on my couch vegging out to Revenge, I decided that the Wii has been sitting in the living room for over a week and I had yet to touch it.

After waiting so long to see it restored and using the excuse of it being in the kids room for a serious lack of motivation on my part, I figured I should take today's opportunity to do what I've been avoiding. Frankly, I need to stop making excuses and get my ass off the couch. I kept insisting that the Wii would provide me a semi embarrassment free way to work out. That part is true, but I no longer have the excuse of it being in the girls' room to not to use it.

I tried several months back to do the 30 Day Shred and I'm sorry, but my out of shape fat ass just wasn't ready to start out that way. I'm a wuss and will be the first one to admit I'll give up almost immediately if I'm in even an ounce of pain. I know this about myself and I accept it. However, EA Active is really low pressure and a great way to begin if you're a flake like me when it comes to exercise.

So I sucked it up today and started the 6 Week Challenge again. I know it's a program I'm capable of following. I just sorta stopped following it and ended up gaining back everything I lost a couple years ago. Guess it's a good thing I never tossed out my fat girl pants huh?

I added a ticker to my right side bar. If you don't see it counting, please feel free to harass me about. Ah, well, here we go again....

And so I begin... Again.

Lesson in Accepting Love for Love

It's a wonderful day here in vacation day land. Originally I scheduled today off because we were supposed to head down to Springfield with my aunts for a Marriage Equality rally. Sadly, my one aunt travels a lot for work and was sent back overseas again and my other aunt's dad is in the hospital right now so she just didn't feel up to traveling too far from him. I am disappointed that we aren't able to go, but I'm happy for a day all to myself.

I debated over the last two weeks when I found out our trip was not going to happen whether or not I should just cancel my day off and save it for later. I just couldn't bare to part with it though. Vacation days around my office are hard to get. See, we have a small office of 7 people and only one person is allowed to be off at a time. Since I'm second to last women on the totem pole and the other girls have been there long enough to amass an insane amount of vacation time, getting a day off is a precious commodity. Every holiday and possible long weekend is already slotted to them which makes finding a day to actually use mine rather difficult.

Day to myself aside, it worked out that we're not going because Lena has her first states test today. For the past week, we've been studying our butts off for this thing (see: There's an App for That!) I had planned to call her off school today, because I really believe that she would learn so much more at the rally than she would in a normal day of school. Typically, I'm an attendance Nazi and she better be damn near dying to stay home from school. Occasionally Once a year though, I will allow her a free day if I feel it will be educationally enriching. I let her play hookie on a Friday last year to go to the zoo with her Aunt Frissy. Activities like that will always hold more beneficial in my mind than the monotonous days of regurgitating the information they force feed our kids every day. Usually by the time she gets home from school she can't remember a dang thing they went over in class, but she can still tell me the diameter of a grizzly bear's paw and how much fish a dolphin eats in a day. If she retains more knowledge, I'm willing to let a day off school slide.

When my aunt first mentioned the March On Springfield trip, I already knew that it was something I wanted Lena to be a part of. I'm not overly political and I recognize that I could potentially be opening up Pandora's box here, but I am a huge supporter of Marriage Equality. My aunts are two of the most kind and brilliant women I know and the fact that they love each other is looked down upon literally makes me sick to my stomach.

A couple years ago, Illinois finally allowed "civil unions." While they're still not allowing it to be called "marriage" my aunts were allowed to be legally recognized as a couple. In my opinion, it was a major stride in the right direction. I remember getting the nervous phone call from them, because they wanted Lena to be their flower girl. I was completely in shock that they asked with a disclaimer of "We understand if you're not comfortable with the idea" before ever giving me the opportunity to answer. Of course she'll be in your wedding!!! Teaching Lena acceptance and loving people for who they are and not who you expect them to be has always been a major value in our household. I couldn't believe that they thought for even a moment that I would say no to this. It breaks my heart to think that they literally felt shame in asking us to stand with them and support the love they've been sharing for the past 20 years. Even though they know we love them, they were afraid of asking us to love them publicly. 

I've always been a supporter of allowing people to be who they are, but it was that moment, that phone call, when I really made the decision to be more out with my opinion. I have signed every petition that I've come across, I follow and support many LGBT social communities, I share their content, I have proudly worn the badge for equality during the times the issue has come up for vote, and most importantly I teach acceptance to my children. There is no promise that it will be granted during my lifetime, however if I instill the values into my girls maybe, just maybe, it will happen during theirs. Because honestly, there is nothing wrong with love...

Where Does The Energy Come From???

It's almost 10:30 and this mommy is so ready for bedtime. My girls??? Hahahaha, of course not! They're out in the living room doing this...

On Second Thought...

I'm a huge number cruncher. The better part of a decade as a single mom has basically left me as a paranoid mess when payday rolls around. From the moment those hard earned dollars hit my account, me and my calculator end up conjoined twins for the next 48 hours. I pull up all the bills (I love e-bill) and start punching away at the numbers. I figure out what's due, what gets paid, and what can wait. If I'm being honest, I typically start this process the night before and then start it all over again once I've confirmed the actual deposit amount.

Last night after tucking Lena in, I started on my usual pre-payday rant. Normally, James just sits there quietly and plays his games, because he knows that in the end, I've already planned it all out and there's not much input he needs to make. When he first moved in last year, it was certainly a surprise quirk of mine that took a little getting used to. But once the bills are paid, I don't say a word about how he spends the remaining money, so it's not really that big of deal for him.

Last night however, as I ran through the rather long list, his whole face sorta just fell. He could see his pay check sailing away before it was ever in the bank. On top of the regulars, Lena needs a hair cut, we need to get Paige a birthday present, and we have to pick up our contribution to family birthday dinner for next weekend. That alone is no small order with the entire small country of family members that I come with. 

Today, on lunch, as I sat typing out the penny for penny play by play via text, I stopped myself. I erased the whole thing that had taken me a good 10 minutes to punch in and just typed, we'll figure it out when we get home instead. I recalled the sad and forlorn look on his face last night and prevented myself from letting my financial OCD ruin a day that's been going good for him so far. I still feel the twinge to hammer out the details, but for now I'll do him a favor and control my bad habit.

Hey Doc, Can I Borrow The DeLorean?

This morning, Lena and I tackled one of those huge womanly milestones together. If you recall my post last month, One Hairy Armpit?, I mentioned that we're getting ready to tread into the deep waters of puberty.

This morning, my little girl, caught me completely by surprise. I was in the middle of brushing my teeth when she approached me very matter-of-fact, pulled off her t-shirt, and jabbed a finger straight into her armpit. I can only imagine the total deer in the headlights look that must have been on my face. Evidently I was just supposed know what that meant. After spitting and wiping a glob of slobber filled toothpaste off my chin, I asked her what I was missing here.

"Mom, we need to fix this" still pointing into her armpit. And then it hit me, she wanted to shave! My sweet little 5 lb 2 oz baby, who just came home from the hospital a week ago (at least it feels that way) wanted to borrow my razor.

I'm not entirely sure when the other armpit decided to sprout hair, but it's sudden appearance accomplished two things. One: it caught me completely off guard. She had not shared that little tidbit with me and since the days of needing assistance to shower ended when she was 5, I simply don't see her underarms these days. And two: one hairy armpit was a proud sign of growing up, but two? Two? She would not tolerate that nuisance. The time had come to eliminate her new found mortal enemy. Body hair. (Just wait, it gets better!)

While I understand that nothing is really just mine, I was not willing to hand over my razor. Not because I was afraid of catching her new puberty cooties, but because I had terrible visions of her slicing open the soft pink folds of her underarms. I have 5 younger sisters and went through this with all of them, but I recall just handing them the razor and telling the to do it already. It's completely different when it's your daughter asking for the blades of womanhood.

My reluctance to do so was met with some heavy sighs and rolling eyes. I'm so unreasonable! However, I remembered that I still had a bottle of Nair stashed in the back of the bathroom cabinet that I pulled out in order to quickly find a compromise. I understood the want to get ride of the hair, I just didn't want to chance a trip to the ER to do it.

We smeared the soft pink lotion under her arms and I told her by the time she was done brushing her teeth we'd be able to just wipe the hair away. Not thinking of the reason I had stored it in the way-back of the cabinet, I went about my other business and left Lena to herself in the bathroom. A couple minutes later, she walks into the kitchen, arms raised high over her head... "Mom, this crap stings!!!" Oh shit... That's right. Sorry kid! We rushed back into the bathroom, gave her a good dry wipe, said bye bye to the hair, and then washed her skin down in cold water until it stopped feeling like someone had just yanked each hair out with a pair of tweezers.

I stood there for a moment and just held my baby, rocking her in my arms, telling her I can't believe how big she's gotten. She looks up at me sweetly and tells me "Mom... I think I'm also getting hair on my butt."

She sure knows how to kill a special moment, doesn't she? Now I've added another thing to my list for this weekend. "The Darkness" Halloween costume and a safety razor.

Baby, I've Been Losing Sleep

I absolutely cannot wait to move into a bigger house! Summer simply cannot come fast enough these days. Besides the obvious desperate need for additional bathrooms (see How to Pee Alone) I am also looking forward to the possibility of a second floor bedroom where I might find a few moments of silence. I really don't care how much James likes the idea of a ranch style... This mom is dying for a little separation courtesy of some stairs and a whole floor between myself and the "common" areas.

In our little rental house the walls are basically paper thin. There is no such thing as privacy or peace and quiet here because you can hear everything anyone says in any room you're in. Sometimes it's handy, but most times it's a pain in the ass. When James and I head to bed, that's our special connection time (hey now, clean out those filthy minds!). We usually lay there cuddling and sharing the details of our very separate days. Sounds a little romantic right? Haha, not when the kid yells through the wall "Hey, I'm trying to sleep you know!" Excuse me for wanting to talk and laugh with my partner. Sheesh!

At the moment, I'm laying in our room. I was trying to read and get caught up today's posts. But as I hear this song for literally the 10th time today, I can't help but get distracted.

Lena acquired this gem a couple days ago and she's been playing it on repeat ever since. It's a shame. I liked the song. Now, I really wish I could drill out my ear drums.

Oh and that's not all either! James is in the living room watching TV. I may or may not have gotten him hooked on The Originials and I may or may not have watched it without him last night since he went to bed earlier than normal. Oops!

Well, since there doesn't seem to be any beating them (or available ear plugs) in tunnel of endless sound, I guess I'll just join them instead.

Shhhh... It's a Secret!

Every mom knows there is nothing sacred. The moment it passes the threshold it becomes community property and from the instant it hits the radar of your under-aged army... all bets are off. 

Most days I feel guilty about being a working mom and wish that I was home. However, it does occasionally have it's perks. Outside of providing adult interaction which prevents getting swallowed up in living an episode from the Disney Channel (this is the lie I feed myself to feel better), it also provides a damn good hiding spot for treats you don't want to share.

I made quick run to Meijer's today on lunch. We ran out of conditioner this morning and I had to the whole "add water and shake like you're having an epileptic seizure to get the remaining residue off the bottle sides" thing to ensure my hair would be semi-brushable. I'm still pretty certain I created a small bald spot when I got out and probably should have put Rogain on my list, but these just looked so much better! 

Miss Debbie is now stored safely in my desk drawer where I don't have to share. She will never cross my doorstep and my sweet toothed gremlins will never know I have her. I should feel guilty, pumpkin frosted brownies would thrill them, but I don't. They're mine and what they don't know won't hurt them.

There's An App For That!

I forgot just how hard 5th grade homework can be! When I first shared that post, I originally thought it was funny. Today? Eh... Not so much! At the rate I'm going, I'm going to become outdated when it comes to homework help. Oh wait! I already am!

Lena has started the dreaded states. Ugh! Her first state test is next week and it's going to require a whole lot of studying... For both of us. Tonight, she presented me with two maps at homework time.

One that look like this...

And one that looked like this...

And then, I looked like this... In my head...

Of course, I had to play it off like I knew exactly which states were which. Thank goodness the teacher provided a parental answer key or I'd be screwed. It's been a long time since I had to identify the states. And certainly even longer since I had to know them by shape. Is it wrong to feel better that she didn't know them either?

I have exactly a week to get myself united (hehe, sorry couldn't resist) and figure out which squiggly line is which. To help me (and her) in this process I pulled Amazon up immediately. I knew there had to be a way to make this a little more fun for both of us. And guess what, there's an app for that! I don't know how people survived without internet, tablets, computers, and all other fantasical wifi savior-type devices. I'm soooo glad I live in a time where my inadequacies can quickly be masked by my Kindle Fire co-parenting dependency.

Sunday's BIG Decision

As we completed our normal Sunday morning cleaning routine, Paige made mention that the new Xbox One will be coming out next month. This, of course, sparked an immediate information quest. James needed to know the release date, the pricing, and what games would/would not be available for this upcoming dream toy. Que mommy light bulb!

It was exactly the opening I've been waiting to plead my case on the subject of switching around the game systems! I've always felt that the Wii should be hooked up in the living room. For starters, all the games I want to everyone likes to play are for the Wii. Second, we have four controllers for it while the Xbox only has two. Third, you don't need space to play Xbox. We don't have the Kinect for it, so there's no hopping, jumping, running in place, or any other physical activity required. The girls' room does not allow enough space for them to really use the Wii the way it was meant to be used. If my girls are going to play games, I'd rather they get a workout while doing so. Especially with winter just around the corner, I feel it's going to be important for them to burn off some of their energy. Fourth, he's the only person who gives one hoot about playing with the Xbox. At least until Christmas gets here and we unveil Disney Infinity.

James loves his Xbox and he loves his TV. Me, personally, I'm not attached to either item. When we first got the new TV back in February, he was adamant about having it hooked up to the bigger TV. Since he worked so hard to get it and it was the only thing he coveted for himself, I didn't put up a fight. But the door of possibility was open a crack and I broke it wide open before the winds of change slammed it shut in my face again. "Hunnie, you don't really use the Xbox much with it being in the common area. You can't play Call of Duty Zombies while the little ones are up so it's just sitting there collecting dust. Plus, wouldn't you rather have the girls play Disney Infinity in our room rather than on your big TV?" I'm clever when I want to be and I know how to spin a tale to make it look like I was really thinking of his benefit. Which I was... cough... kinda.

So he we made a big decision yesterday, well big for our family. We moved the Wii out of the girls' room to the main TV and the Xbox to our room. Hurray, I get my games back!!!! Hello Spyro, how I have missed you!!! I mean... Now the girls won't just sit around all winter. It was for the benefit of the family, really I swear!

I Am Just Lucky

Yesterday's Women's Car Care Clinic was a complete success. I just could not stop complimenting my partner in marketing last night because she really organized such an amazing event. We all had a hand in the planning, but she really did the bulk of it and deserves all the credit for it. I only organized the vendors and procured the items for the gift bags (Avon and Scentsy). She planned the stations, speakers, and so much more! It seemed that the ladies in attendance really enjoyed themselves and found it very informative as well. This my become a regular thing around Levin Tire and I was thrilled to be present for it.

I really am lucky. I know that sometimes I don't focus on that, but this morning I feel like my cup is pouring over with all the good things that I have in my life. All three of my children are still snug asleep in their beds right now. I peeked in on them this morning when I got up and I just can't help but glow with love for my three beautiful children.

At first I wasn't sure that Lena was in her bed though, see she went with my sister and brother-in-law yesterday to Six Flags Fright Fest as her upcoming birthday present and I was long in bed by the time she got home. (My sister has a key to my house, so I knew she'd let herself in.) As I tip-toed into Lena and Anne's room this morning, just to make sure she'd been returned, I saw Anne sprawled out in her bed like usual and reached a hand up into the top bunk to feel around for a body that I couldn't see. After a couple seconds of padding around the mountains of blankets I could feel legs, so I know she's good and comatose in her bed.

Yesterday really did work out perfectly schedule wise (I know, that never happens!) because Paige and I had to be to work at the same time. Usually it's a lot of extra driving to get her to work. Since they live 45 minutes from us, the weekends can get kind of hectic running kids back and forth. Hence, why we're planning the move over the upcoming summer. We left a little early so I could drop her off to her mom and still get to work at on time. I really do love spending time with Paige, her and I can talk for hours. She thinks of me as her mom and I think of her as my daughter even if it isn't officially on paper just yet. Her and I connected right from the start though, even before me and her dad were a couple and we stayed talking even during the times in between James and I being together. If you're a new reader, James has been around my family for 8 years, we'd dated a couple of times before now, but us being a serious couple didn't happen until a little over a year ago.

We finished the clinic around 8pm and Paige didn't get off work until 9pm, but it worked out perfect because afterward the Levin group went to grab food afterwards courtesy of one of our speakers/vendors. Thank you Matt from Stonewheel for the much needed dinner! My co-workers stayed at the restaurant to have a few drinks and while it would have been nice to stay I had to get Paige from work. I mentioned in yesterday's post about getting looked at as if I was a 3 headed dog when I say that I'm 30 with a 10 year old... Haha, you should have seen the looks when I said I had to get my 18 year old from work. I explained it of course, but I still don't think people grasp the story of the adoption sometimes.

Yesterday also provided Anne with some much needed daddy-daughter time. With Lena off with my sister and myself and Paige at work, Anne had her daddy all to herself. She was on cloud 9 with this! When we got home she was fast asleep curled up in his lap.

It really was a perfect day for all.

Scentsy Consideration

I'm seriously considering becoming a Scentsy consultant. It's been an idea that I've been mulling over the last couple of months and the more I think about it, the more I want to do it. If I was smart, I would have signed up when I first thought about it, because we're hosting our very first Women's Car Care Clinic this evening at my job. We placed a very large order to put in the gift bags for the ladies today and I'm kicking myself for not capitalizing on that. However, we're doing this in hopes of continuing it quarterly which means there's a lot of potential there for me to make a little extra cash. With us attempting to purchase a home next summer, every little bit helps.

James works an insane amount of overtime sometimes, but he has that option... I don't. I work my set 40 hours and there is no hope of any overtime ever. This makes me feel extremely guilty because I fully admit he takes on the bulk of the financial responsibility for our family. It doesn't bother him, he's a little old school and believes that it is his responsibility anyway. But, I can't help but feel like I'm inadequate sometimes. I want to contribute more. I want to be able to help provide for our family equally. I want to help ease some of the stress he feels when things are a little I tight. I just don't know how to do it.

Since becoming involved in the blogging world, I see a lot of you ladies out there providing a little extra for the support of your families, but I am literally lost on how to get there. I've joined plenty of affiliate sites: Commission Junction, Amazon Associates, Link Vehicle, etc. None of which have benefited me monetarily. Granted, I'm not pushing any of these sites either. The point of this blog is not really to earn from it, but to provide me with an outlet for the sometimes crazy chaotic thoughts and feelings that I have racing through my head. It's also a way to connect with other people who I can identify with.

When you're a mom, especially a working mom, it's really hard to find people to connect with. Here in our little country town there is a huge community of stay at home moms. I have tried volunteering through the school on several different occasions, but they certainly have their clicks formed and getting into such a tight knit group is like trying to wrestle an alligator. It doesn't help either that I'm a young mom. (Well, not so young anymore, but much younger than the moms with kids my daughter's age.) Basically I get looked at like a leaper who was most likely a promiscuous whore because I was a teen mom and affiliation with me might possibly contaminate them. Needless to say I don't volunteer anymore for school events really, because I got really tired of doing the per-verbally walk of shame whenever someone ask how old I was. A person can only stay so many damning "Oh's" and sideways glances like they're waiting for me to break out my stripper gear and start dancing.

All of that aside, I do believe I could be good in sales. Hell, it's my job to teach people how to sell themselves and therefore sell the product. However, James is very hesitant about my idea to take on selling Scentsy. I can't say I blame him, the starter kit for it is $100 which is nothing to sneeze at. However, every consultant I've talked to has told me that you make it right back after your first party. The key to it though is having the product on hand because people don't like to wait. That's where it really gets him. He knows very well that I don't do anything halfway and I'm certain that he has visions of me decking out our garage as my own personal Scentsy store. (Hmmm... not a terrible idea.) Again, kicking myself right now because the order we placed for this event would have more than covered the start-up cost. We've been talking about it a lot the last couple of weeks and he told me he wants to see how today's event goes before he'll really consider it as a possibility. Don't get me wrong, I don't have to have his permission to do this, but part of why we work so well together is that we make large decisions like this as a team. It's just one of our rules. He doesn't make big decisions without my support and I don't without his.

With his hesitation I'm torn. I have a lot of fear and doubt about so-called pyramid sales. At the same time though, I feel like I could potentially regret not at least trying. I'm not sure what to do at the moment, so any suggestions, life experience stories, or recommendations are certainly welcomed.

I'm So Unreasonable Friday Link Up #3

It doesn't matter if your child or children are toddlers, tweens, or full fledged teenagers at some point (or many points) your darling little demons angels will think your wisdom is meant to torment them and snuff out their independence.

Last week, I failed to post the link up... I had the very rare opportunity to be kid free and go on a date with my hunnie, so I did. 

This week, I have been unreasonable for the following reasons:

1. Lena spent last weekend at my parent's house. When Sunday rolled around and it was time to come home, she really didn't want to. She insisted that she would much rather live with Gramma. I get this, who wouldn't want to live with their Gramma? They are so much more fun than a boring old mommy who makes you do things like eat healthy food for breakfast, shower, and go to bed on time. However, I still feel strongly that she belongs here with me, at least until she's ready to head off to college. I'm so unreasonable!

2. I made her put away her clean laundry before heading to her friend's house. "Again mom? You're just going to have to wash it later anyway!" While this is certainly an inevitable fact of not allowing her to go naked to school, Anne's lower bunk is not meant to be used as a dresser during the week when she's not here. Yes, my dear, it belongs in the closet. I'm so unreasonable!

3. I wanted to take her picture while we decorated the yard for Halloween. I recall a point in time where she would smile very big for me whenever I pulled out the camera... Now she runs away screaming as if I had a hot poker in my hand that I was trying to jab her in the eye with. This was the best I could get of her because she would only allow me to capture the moment if her face was covered. Heaven forbid I wanted an actual picture of my child smiling and hanging bloody spiderweb as we decked out for our favorite holiday . I'm so unreasonable!

4. This is my final day of the crazy eliminate overtime schedule and I don't have to be to work until 9am. In the interest of not sitting in my work parking lot for an hour (like I did on Tuesday) I refused to drive her into school and made her take the bus. I robbed her of extra kitty time, because selfishly I wanted to enjoy my extra hour and not get out of my jammie's until forced. That being said... I took her to the bus stop... Dressed like this <-------. Oh yes folks, I arrived at the bus stop in all my polka dotted, slip on dress shoes, disheveled hair, fleecy hoodie, no-bra yet glory. She may actually have me with this one. I'm so unreasonable!

How unreasonable where you this week? Leave me a comment and let me know!

Grab the button and link up!

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Don't Fix It If It Isn't Broken

I don't claim to be the best housekeeper. By the time I get home at night, I'm typically exhausted and have no desire to do anything, let alone tedious tasks that involve straightening up the house. Don't get me wrong, my house is clean (sorta). You won't find dirty dishes laying around on tables or in bedrooms, but if it can wait till the weekend, it will wait. Here are just a few things I've shrugged off doing the last couple of weeks, simply because, well, they'll still be there when I actually feel like doing it.

The dreaded sock bucket. A household of 5 accumulates a rather insane number of socks. By the time I'm done doing the 100th load of laundry, folded every last t-shirt, and put it all away I can't bare to spend even one more second tediously matching up socks. I'm well aware that I could easily slide the bucket over as I sit down to watch a show and just whip it off, but since they're not actually hurting anyone, there they sit. Lost and forlorn in the corner of the living room just waiting to be partnered up and lovingly place in the drawer. I should also mention that this is the very same bucket that socks go to die. Every few months I dump the mass accumulation of lost sock souls with no twin and toss them out to start over with a fresh package. I truly believe every dryer comes with a sock eating gremlin and he has a particular taste for the children's socks. I'm guessing it's because they're smaller and therefore easier to digest.

The dish rack. Since we do not have a dishwasher, there is no outta sight outta mind in this kitchen. They are somewhat of a consistent eyesore that dominate a rather larger portion of our counter space. We have plenty of cabinets and each one of these items has their proper out of the way place. However, it seems so much more convenient sometimes to not have bother opening those pesky doors. Especially when they're just going to end up right back there anyway. Oh well, at least they're clean, right?

The cover for the down comforter. For anyone who has ever had a duvet, then you know it requires an extraordinary amount of maneuvering and the ability to wiggle into a small enclosed airless space to tackle stuffing the comforter back into the duvet after washing it. Making our bed presentable requires me to literally climb inside the cover to tuck the corners in properly. Then I have to wriggle out of it like a worm, hold tightly to the corners, shake it violently, and just pray that it doesn't slip out of my hands and force me to start all over again. The look is nice, but the actually achieving of said look is a lot less practical in hindsight. The next bed-set we purchase will come with a standard comforter that will require no magical acrobatics on my part.

Worst of all though, I have become the equivalent of Chewbacca. Lena calls them my pet me legs and proceeds to tell me that I'm hairy like a spider. She informed me this morning as I took this photo "Mom, you really need to do something about those!" Ah, yes child, I know. I have several excuses why I haven't braved the blade and thinned the forest. For instance, the weather is getting colder and I need all the extra insulation I can get since I'm constantly freezing. I could be performing some weird Halloween science experiment and plan to be a human Chia Pet for the trick-or-treaters. Hey, we're on a budget here kids and I'm just trying to be frugal with my homemade costume! Okay, okay... Not sexy, I know! And don't even get me started on the garden! I may or may not need a titanium machete to conquer that jungle. Really what it comes down to is the shower schedule. Lena showers at night and stays in there long enough to make you think it's the last shower she will ever be allowed to have. She will stay in there until every last drop of warm water has been squeezed out of the tank and her lips begin to turn purple from denying the inevitable fact that the it will need to replenish and she is forced by icy spray to abandon Ariel until tomorrow. James showers in the mornings before work, as do I. However, morning time is rather limited and if I don't spend the majority of it chasing around my sweet distracted child then she will go to school in her pajamas, hair and teeth un-brushed, most likely with a kitty stuffed in her backpack instead of her lunch. Weekends you say? Forgetaboutit! I'm always the last to shower. After filtering 3 kids and a significant other through, I'm lucky enough to get a shower at all, let alone one with enough hot water to actually tame the hairy scary beasts.

I live by the motto of Don't Fix It If It Isn't Broken. They're good words to live by, because sometimes scaling the mountain just to climb back down again, doesn't seem worth the effort.

Halloween is Here!

I have been trying since the end of September to get the Halloween decorations up, but the weather was not cooperating. Courtesy of my screwed up schedule this week and my early release today, we finally accomplished my goal!

Finally taking down the Christmas lights to hang the Halloween.

All Lite Up

Bloody Spiderweb Zombie

The Pink Elephant

There has been a pink elephant that has drifted in and out of my life ever since Lena was born and lately he has been poking his head out from whatever rock he repeatedly crawls under. He makes an appearance every now and again and upsets the whole apple cart of calm that tends to settle in when he's not in the picture.  This pink elephant has been on parade the last few weeks and it makes my skin crawl every single time he's mentioned. The pink elephant is her dad.

Lena has not physically seen him since she was in 1st grade (almost 5 years now), however sometimes out of the blue he decides to call or send her text messages for a little while before fading off into the circus again for undetermined amounts of time. It seems as everything starts to settle from the last blip of less than adequate contact, he suddenly appears again as if some tiny little bell rang in his head signaling him that his absence was no longer making her miserable and that he better renew that ache she feels so she doesn't forget him.

I refuse to say anything negative about him to Lena and my answer has always been "He's just not grown up enough." I know it's not a sufficient answer, but it's the only one I have that doesn't include an endless string of swear words or graphically depicting the amount of bodily harm I'd like to inflict on him. So, it will have to do.

She called me at work yesterday and asked for our home number. She's never needed it before so this immediately sent off red warning flares in my head and it forced me to ask the question of why does she need this. Her first response was "just because." I know my daughter, that was an evasive answer because she didn't really want to tell me why she needed it. So I had to press a little harder and ask who she was planning on giving the number to exactly. Thankfully, my daughter is still honest with me. I think guilt would eat her alive if she actually tried to lie and conceal something from me. In the end, she knows I'd find out anyway. She admitted she wanted to give it to her dad.

Her dad has my cell phone number and her text plus number if he wants to communicate with her. Mean as it may sound, I do not want this man to have my home line. Ultimately, he is a stranger. If she has to use my cell phone to talk to him, then I'm home and able to monitor all communications between them. If they're texting on her Kindle, I can go back and read the messages he sent. Psychotic, maybe a little... However, several months back, he told her that he would be moving back from Georgia soon, but that he wanted to fly her down to Disney World with him, his wife, and his step-kids. The wife that told him she was uncomfortable with having Lena and I be a part of his life now that they're married (hence why he hasn't seen her since). Since Lena is old enough to be home alone for a couple hours after school until James or I get home (plus my sister is just down the street), it makes me terribly uncomfortable to think of them talking in a way that's impossible for me to monitor.

It broke my heart to tell her no, she can't call him from the house phone. It broke my heart to tell her that she would have to wait until I got home to talk to him. A girl should be able to talk to her dad without restrictions. But since we don't really know him anymore, I just can't let that happen. I have to be careful when and how much contact I allow because he fills her with promises and dreams that he never delivers on. I would never deny her the right to talk to her dad or see her dad (if he ever decided she was important enough to see again), but it has to be on my terms. I can't protect her from him breaking her heart over and over and over again, but I can hopefully lessen the damage by not allowing him free reign to tear her to pieces when I'm not around to hold her while she cries.

Dear Teenagers

Dear Teenagers:

I'm not entirely certain what caused you to yell to me and several other motorists on my trek home from work today. Upon seeing your license plate as you pulled up to harass the next vehicle in line it occurred to me that you are mostly likely seriously misguided. The definition of Ghetto is as follows: a part of a city, especially a slum area, occupied by a minority group or groups. Seeing as how you were four white kids, driving around in a car most likely purchased by Mr. Fabulous' parents since I highly doubt a job flipping burgers somewhere could pay for that, in Schererville (which certainly doesn't meet the requirements of a slum)... I think it's pretty safe to say that someone has misplaced their dictionary. I highly recommend that you pick up a book prior to sending in for personalized license plates when you don't actually know the meaning of the word. It is no way cool or trendy to stamp I'm an uneducated moron on the back of your vehicle for all to see. 

And I'm sorry, but I do have to ask, what parent allows their child to get such plates on the back of the car they're obviously paying for? It may be just me, but this somehow makes think that mom and dad may need a brief English lesson as well.

Some Days Hunnie, I Want to Wrap You Completely in Duct Tape

My schedule this week is all sorts of messed up. See, we're hosting a Women's Car Car Clinic on Saturday at one of our locations that I'll be working the check in table for. Since my boss is anti even one minute of overtime we have to compensate for those extra hours during the work week. He's also anti giving me and the other 2 girls working it a half day each to eliminate the time easily (and actually enjoy it). Instead, we have to distribute the four hours over several days. We've been robbed with granted a couple mornings in a little late and one day out a little early. Plus I have to compensate for the hours that I'm attending the monthly sales meeting Thursday night too. Fun!

This morning is one of my late mornings. I could have taken advantage of it, put Lena on the bus, and enjoyed my extra hour quietly in my pajamas with my coffee. Instead I let her sleep in a little late and I'm going to be driving her to school. I used to drive her in every morning when I managed the restaurant. None of my vendors delivered until around 10 am so I had a good portion of the mornings to do things like that. All it cost me was my soul and my sanity for almost 3 years.

But I digress... James was down right crabby last night. He was doing everything possible to push my buttons. Sometimes, I wish it wasn't illegal to wrap people up in duct tape and stick them in a closet. He's been avoiding getting his Indiana License for a year now. He has a CDL and it's a major pain in the ass to meet all of the requirements to get one. However, if he wants to plate his car in December he can't avoid it much longer. Since he gets an annual physical through work he didn't want to pay extra (don't blame him) to get one for his license. Indiana provided him with the proper forms that they require, which he informed me yesterday the doctor promptly tossed in the garbage. He works in Illinois so the doctor told him that the form he was filling out would be sufficient for Indiana too. Evidently this doctor has never dealt with trying to get something done with the Indiana BMV. Their rules are not flexible and I already know this is going to cause me a headache. Since he was born abroad it was hell getting the proper documentation to appease them, but James doesn't understand that because I did it all for him. All I said was "Oh, great!" when he told me what the doctor did and he immediately flipped his switch. "The doctor knows what he's doing," "Indiana isn't allowed to require something different, I've met the federal requirements." Blah, blah, blah. 

Listen up genius, the state has the right to require whatever the hell forms they want and now, I'm going to have to deal with trying to get it even though you were right there! He really is a wonderful man, but sometimes he just doesn't think it through. It never even occurred to him that now I was going to have to jump through a bunch of hoops to track down this doctor and get that form filled out anyway. James is kind, dedicated, hard working, a great father, and sometimes a bit of an oaf. Some days I just want to scream at him, if you're going to treat me like a stay at home mom with time to do this crap, then make me one! I think some days he forgets that I work too.

When he gets home from work, he thinks he's just done for the day. I still have to tackle dinner, homework, the laundry, the pets, etc. Him, well he plays iPad. I have to twist his arm to help get things done sometimes. Most days I'm okay with it, because it's all just habit for me and I was doing it all for years as a single mom. Outside having extra laundry, it hasn't really added anything to my daily routines. He really is more help than hinder, but more-so on weekends than weekdays. But there are days, like last night, it makes me furious and I just want to chuck the iPad out of the window and run it over with the car. I know that would get his attention.