Why do I get sick every Halloween? Maybe I am phobic. Which would not be that odd since I do have some really strange ones. Like pumping gas....what in the world is that about? I can do it but man the anxiety attack that ensues, UGH. So here I sit sick again. Drig was out all last week and Keara came home sick Fri. so it shouldn't surprise me in the slightest. What is odd is that for every Halloween since I can remember, I have been sick. And I adore Halloween. Maybe that's it, I get myself in a frenzy and then sickness takes over. (You know I need smilies, can't get through this without the shoulder-shrugging one.)
I've noticed that when I have a thought I often don't write it because it makes me appear cluttered (my brain that is). And to that I say, indeed it is. So for now on I will write away and insert those little peevish ideas that pop into my brain in parentheses. Maybe you can follow my train of thought or for those that can't well just don't read!
It amazes me that my daughter given all of her fantasies, is so not into those Junie B. or any other fictional girl character books. What she does enjoy to read are fact books. Last night she was reading the star book and trying to remember the order of the planets. Do you remember that little saying that we learned to remember the planets? I couldn't but AHHH the wonders of the internet. So there seem to be several but the one I like is "My Very Excellent Mother Just Served Us Nine Pizzas." I also found some really crude variations that indeed are not suited for the 6 year old mind. (ok this is the first one, see if you recognize the awkwardness of thought going on here...the six year old in my house acts an awful lot like a 12 year old that I once was...and yes that is possible because this 12 year old was very naive and lacking in the world knowledge that surrounded her. I didn't experience that epiphany that you know I was better than my parents, smarter and such until a much later date. On the contrary, Keara already goes through that mom can't know or do anything as good as she can. I simply cannot get it right even if I have the operating instructions under my nose....THEY LIE, ALL OF THEM!)
Kai is such a whiney boy these days. Much to my dismay, because I actually thought (yes I am a dope) that boys wouldn't get as whiney as their counterparts. Boy was I wrong (There must be a reason they use that expression...you know what I mean?) So he is either some kind of whiney nagging twerp or a big scary Dinosaur. Between the two, I don't know which I prefer. He does get the short end of the stick, though. Being a middle I know too well what it is about to be shoved aside for more pressing big kid moments or dire baby times. Kai is a scrappy kid. He finds his voice every time I think he might go into the woodwork. (Ah that was really a nice little picture of Kai. He is soooo much his mamma's son)
Drig about wore my last nerve to a shred yesterday. He has ISSUES! I guess it is hard for me because I just throw on clothes (yes I do look like I do that, probably all the stares I get...hmmmm) and then go. I don't give a flying hoot if there is a tag, seam, hanging string, long sleeves, short...I just go. Drig has issues with every damn piece of clothing there is. So I put on his sweatshirt and ya know it has long sleeves, what was I thinking? He screams until you get it perfectly adjusted about half way up his arm. He will tug at tags until they are gone. Pants cannot be too long but heaven help me if they are to short. (see again I need the damn smilies...you know profanities pop in my brain about every other word. I really am good with self control because even though it may appear as though I swear too often, imagine if I didn't sensor this dirty brain of mine.) Ok where was I? Oh yes, Drig's issues. He will scream and I mean his face turns shades of purple polkadots for what seems to drag on for hours. In reality it is probably more like 20 minutes but still. He does this and there is no distracting him from what ever freakish thing that is causing him trouble. But when he is done, he is done. It hurts to watch him cry. Yesterday the one that about sent me over the edge....he is trying to learn to use the potty. He takes care of business but then wants to be naked only to find a corner to mark (how did I give birth to 2 animalistic boys...I swear they are always so primitive) Anyhoo, I struggled with the boy for a full hour to get either a diaper, pullup or undies on that naked butt. Do you think I won? Of course I didn't. (If one more child comes up to me and nags about one more thing....UGH, of course you must read between the lines, because for every UGH there has got to be some kind of really awful four letter word inserted at least five times) So I can't even finish my train of thought here, Kai needs juice, Drig has broken his Space Ranger Ship once again and Keara is getting peanut butter all over her nose. BE BACK LATER....(just noticed, I love using them ....)