Busted == More Bad Parenting

Ani came stalking into our bedroom this morning.

"Why is your PURSE in the tv room? Why are there CANDY wrappers in the garbage?" Her eyes narrowed. "Were you WATCHING TV and eating CANDY??"

"Um, yes."

"That's not fair! I'm going to go turn on the TV and then you better give me some candy!"

"Sure it's fair. Because I'm a grown up and I can do whatever I want."

Yesterday, the 3 year old (aka Bottomless Pit) ambushed me in the living room at 10:45am.

"Can you make me a sandwich?" she pleaded, with puppy dog eyes.

"Sure ... at lunchtime."

"Okay, great. Can you give me something while I wait? Like egg and cheese?"

"Um ..."

"And while that's cooking, can you give me some peach yogurt? Because I'm really hungry. Thanks."

No Clever Title Required

I always feel compelled to make some excuse as to why I'm not posting more. In my blogging heyday, I posted every single day. Part of the reason why I don't is that I've voluntarily given up my niche. I don't consider myself a "mommy blogger" anymore and I don't want to talk about my kids all the time, for a variety of reasons.

Almost everything else going on at the moment is a bit repetitive, and not really worth extensive obsessive updating.

Anyway, we're all recovering from "Week from Hell, the Second" of this winter. Can't wait for the next one. We all still have coughs, and the grownups have lingering sore throats, but I'm blaming either the low humidity or the mold for that.

Speaking of mold! It's a long story, but we were finally able to prod our landlord into acknowledging our existence, and we have a mold remediation company coming out on Wednesday. It's not much, but it's something. Supposedly we are to hear from some chimney/flue companies as well, but that hasn't yet happened. Things are moving, though, and I think we have some leverage. Keep your fingers crossed, if you do that kind of thing.

I was only off my normal exercise routine for four or five days, but apparently the illness was pretty thorough because I wasn't able to charge right back like nothing had happened. The first class I went back to I had to take pretty slow, and I kept up with yesterday's okay, just a little slower and weaker than usual. I'm not sure if this was a good idea, or very stupid (and honestly, I can't bring myself to care) but I started a T-Tapp bootcamp (Google it, too lazy) on Thursday. It's only a measly 15 minutes of exercise in the morning, so I can't believe it's too much, you know? I don't know why T-Tapp feels so unbelievably corny and silly to me, but it's supposedly a pretty impressive workout, and again, takes up very little time, so what the hell. I'm on Day 4 of what I hope will be a 7 Day Bootcamp, but if it ends up being less, I don't care. Four consecutive days is supposed to be the important bit, and that's now done. Yay.

The children really need to go back to school because they are kind of driving me crazy. Baby C has this new atrocious habit of speaking continuously in a totally random way. It goes sort of like this:

"Daaaad?"
"What?"
...
"Daaaaaaaad?"
"What, Cel?"
...
"Daaaaaaaaaaaaad!"
"If you want to talk to me, come here. I don't want to keep shouting!"
"What?!"
...
...
"Daaaaaaad!"

Repeat every three minutes indefinitely. Side effects include irritation, unpredictable fits of rage, inexplicable helpless laughter and hair loss. And presumably, if left untreated, insanity and death.

Another part of her plan to drive us all mad is her curious refusal to take herself to the bathroom to pee. If she has to poop, no problem. We don't hear about it until she's ready to be cleaned up. If she has to pee, she begins an elaborate song and dance routine. She denies she has to go, then she starts to whine that she needs help, then she bursts into tears because OMFGSHEHASTOPEE! but will not make any attempt to bring herself to the bathroom. You know, that same bathroom she just used to take a crap all by herself a few hours previously.

Fortunately for her, she's very, very cute, what with the dimples and the curls and her natural inclinations toward ducking her chin and batting her eyelashes, so we haven't yet sold her off to a traveling carnival.

(Though to be fair, it's a slow season for traveling carnivals.)

...

It's been very sunny the past few days. Maybe it's cold, I don't know. I haven't left the house in fecking DAYS. The rage is beginning to unfurl from deep within. At first, I thought it was merely onset of more gruesome cramps, but it has a slightly different quality.

Yeah, so let's review: Q got pink eye on Weds. I started feeling ill on Thursday. Baby C was diagnosed with pink eye and dual ear infections on Friday. She started throwing up on Saturday, which is conveniently when things got bad for me as well. Sunday and Monday Q took care of all of us, and I'm feeling better (though not terrific) just in time, because he came down with this Gastro Bug from Hell last night.

A is either going to miss this one, or she's going to come last. We just don't know. It's part of the fun!

I Hate February, and I Hate Winter, and I Hate Germs. I'm really tired of putting my life on hold every few weeks to deal with some new version of Ick, and continually being behind on everything. Because ODDLY ENOUGH the world doesn't stop just because we're all fucking languishing over here.

Yeah yeah. Whine whine, bitch bitch.

In Lieu of Actual Content

My husband and I were attempting to sit next to each other, on the couch. Little C was in the middle, and not happy.

"No, Daddy, you go sit over dere!" she commanded imperiously, pointing to the love seat.

"You kids are always getting in between me and romance," I murmured over my magazine.

"Getting between you and MERMEN?" Ani asked, incredulously.

Well, yes, those too. I have not had a single romantic relationship with a merman, and I'm pretty sure it's all their fault.

Idle Hostile Thoughts

So I was driving along this afternoon doing errands, wondering what immutable law of nature requires a majority percentage of elderly people to not ONLY drive five miles below the posted speed limit, but also stay in the passing lane. While I was wondering this in a somewhat irritable way, the example specimen in front of me pulled over into the left turn only lane, which is exactly what I was going to do.

Oddly, though he was first "in line" at the light, he decided to stop about two car lengths from the light. Then he looked in his rearview mirror and started whirling his index finger around in a circle. Not understanding Elder Demented Sign Language, I sat there gaping. Then he put his hazard lights on.

Assuming he was mysteriously intending to sit there immobile, I checked the other lanes and moved to pass him on the right. However, for reasons known only to God and the forces of chaos, he chose this moment to give up his fool's errand and quickly pull up to the line, blocking me from reentering the turn only lane. Not allowed to turn, this forced me miles out of my way.

This ranks right up there with the elderly man who stopped dead in front of me, on a 45 mph four lane road, in the middle of the right lane, to allow his wife to get out and go get a free community newspaper out of a corner dispenser.

As a society, we need to improve public transportation. I'M JUST SAYIN'.