It’s OVER!

No more overtime!

I’m done!

Back to working a 40-hour week… Oh. Yay.

But… I am taking Monday off. So after 2 months of working 6 days a week, I get a 3-day weekend… Hardly a respite but hey, I’ll take what I can get. Plus Monday is Princess Punk’s birthday and I’ll have a moment or two to breathe before I jump back into things.

Today we have a “Girls’ Day Out.” The Princess, her BFF, My Mom, The Peach and I are going to Burlington to shop and get pedicures and go out to eat. I got Princess Punk a $50 gift card to Victoria’s Secret because I think every girl should be actually fitted for a nice bra when they start with the boobs. And she’s getting her ears pierced… that would be the second one. Which I don’t really get because she never wears earrings now anyways. Whatever…

Anyways… Hopefully since I’m not working quite so much and will have a teeny tiny bit more energy, I’ll be able to post more. I feel all guilty since I posted a total of 5 times during the month of September. I’m hoping my brain will start functioning on a normal regular average the level I generally exist at. I miss blogging but I think it might take me a little bit to get back in the swing of things… My writing feels a bit rusty and at the moment I’m still totally blanking on stuff to write about.

That being said…

Time keeps on slippin’…

Crap. Now I have that song running through my head.

Anyway. Yeah, I know, long time, yada yada yada… Work, doctors, soccer season, more work, the fall rush… Busy.

I will be the mother of a teenager in 10 days.

My little bitty infant is now a fat happy baby who is eating finger foods and trying to walk. (Yes, that’s right, walk)

The Pout

The Peach had her first day in daycare on Monday. We decided she should go once a week because she has become accustomed to a tiny little universe consisting of me, The Zen Master, Princess Punk and My Mom. Anyone outside of that universe, including My Dad, My In-Laws and Crazy Girl are all aliens and not to be trusted or tolerated. She puts on The Pout whenever anyone from outside her little world comes near her and will start screeeeeeeaaaming if anyone else should deign to hold her. The Zen Master and I discussed it and as luck would have it, a girl from work who I like a lot and who happens to live within 15 minutes of my house, decided to quit her job and open a home day care. So The Peach is now in her care every Monday for a full day.

This first Monday? Sucked. She cried. I cried. She screamed. I cried some more. After about 15 minutes of me trying to tell her it was okay while simultaneously fighting back tears (I’m sure that was believable), Ms. Daycare said, “You should probably just rip off the band-aid and go.”

So I left.

And I cried almost the whole way to work.

It wasn’t as bad when Princess Punk started in daycare. She was only 6 weeks old and at that point, it was just a different hand putting a bottle in her mouth. It was still painful leaving my baby but there were no angry, weeping, accusatory looks like I got from The Peach. The “I can’t believe you’re giving me away to this strange person and just leaving… How could you!?!? face. Ms. Daycare’s fiancée also happens to be a co-worker. He arrived at work about 20 minutes after I did and assured me The Peach was calm and happy by the time he left and was eating her oatmeal with gusto. Honestly, I felt a teeny bit bummed that she wasn’t still crying, I just wanted her to miss me that much… Yeah, I know, Dork. Ms. Daycare sent me text messages and pictures throughout the day to assure me The Peach was doing fine. OH, and Peachy-Pie decided to make mommy look like a big fat liar and take a 3 hour nap in a crib, after I had explained in detail to Ms. Daycare how difficult it is to get that kid to sleep during the day and if you should put her down at any time, her eyes pop open like one of those weird baby dolls. Fine. Be that way. Brat.

I picked her up late afternoon, almost 5. Ms. Daycare said she had been good most of the day, only crying once or twice. She had apparently been very serious throughout the day, didn’t smile much except when they went outside and she got to play on the swing. She was solemn and serious but calm and not crying. Well, ok, not crying until I strapped her into the car seat. Then she revved up the siren. And kept it going most of the way home before she completely passed out. She ended up sleeping in the car seat at home for another 20 minutes and then woke up crabby. Like VERY crabby. Like inconsolable crying, pushing herself away from The Zen Master and I, tearful, snot-bubble crabby. This went on about 30 minutes and then, like someone had flipped a switch in her little brain, she was fine. Laughing, playing peek-a-boo, grabbing my phone and eating dinner. Like she hadn’t just been all red-faced demon baby with a poker up her ass.

So we survived her first day. And we’ll see how she does this coming Monday.

I have an MRI this morning. Then My Mom and I are going to run some errands, one of which is going to Vicki’s Secret to get a gift certificate for Princess Punk. Cuz God help us, she has real boobs now and I think a fitting present for her 13th birthday is a few pretty, well-fitting bras and Lord knows, The Zen Master isn’t gonna take her. Not that I’d want him to anyway but I think it’s hilarious that We swapped the chores around in the house so The Zen Master now does the dishes and Princess Punk now folds the laundry because he was starting to freak out whenever he had to handle her little lacey bra or bikini underwear. Poor kid actually HAS to wear bikinis or at least hip huggers because she has such a righteous ass (and I know that’s a weird thing to say about your daughter but it’s totally true and I’m totally jealous). When she wears jeans actually made for girls, the pants that actually fit her ample butt and hips leave a 2 inch gap at her waist right in the back. Which will conveniently show off any type of panties she is wearing unless they are fitted low on her hips. I’m SO thankful she is a tomboy because if she wore girly-girl clothes all the time she’d have high school boys banging down my door and The Zen Master would end up in jail for assault.

The realization hit me the other day that she is about to turn 13. And I lost my virginity when I was 14… And I got a little sick.

Then I remembered. She isn’t me. The Princess is a lot more self-assured than I ever was and acts more like a kid her age should act around the opposite sex. A good portion of her friends are boys, she doesn’t get all giggly and stupid like I’ve seen some of the other girls do and while those girls hang around and gossip about who likes who and watch the boys play kickball and football, The Princess is watching the boys fight over who gets to have her on their team because she can kick the ball farther than any of them do. I love watching her play soccer. She’s a strong defensive player and goal kicks and corner kicks generally go to her or one other girl on the team (who doesn’t kick as far but has better accuracy). She goes up for a goal kick and I watch the other team run backwards because they know what’s coming. I’ve seen her kick a ball from midfield and only miss making a goal because of an exceptional save from the other team’s goalie. She’s tough and she’ll play through anything although she’ll bitch and moan for hours about bruises, aches and pains after the game.

She’s a mature, beautiful, talented young woman. The Peach is a smart, active and is rapidly  growing before my eyes. And it’s going so fast… Just keeps on slippin’.

So what exactly IS my breaking point?

I hurt. Really bad. I almost barfed at Princess Punk’s soccer game today because the PSM (that would be Psycho Soccer Mom) sitting next to me whistled so loud my teeth vibrated. I spent 10 minutes of The Zen Master’s birthday dinner at the hibachi restaurant last night in tears.

I am currently waiting for my insurance company to pre-approve an MRI and then I consult with the surgeon. In November. Because that’s the soonest they have. My doc says it will be 4-6 months at least before I would actually have surgery.

He said “The chronic pain, lack of sleep and just the stress you have on a daily basis is enough to bring a person to their breaking point. I’m concerned you’re getting close to yours.”

Ok, I appreciate that he recognizes that I’m dealing with a lot but really, how is that statement going to do anything to help me?

Starting a new medication tonight. We’ll see if it helps without losing 50 IQ points. When I told him I’ve been drinking 2-3 glasses of wine a night just to go to sleep, he just shrugged.

So, yeah… Not dealing too well at the moment.

I’m going to go lay down.

I think I need some asprin… and a LOT of water.

Little Sister had her 21st birthday party last night. It was actually a combined party for her and her mom since their birthdays are pretty close together and these were milestone for both of them. 21 for Little Sister and… umm… 29 for her mom… again. They had a fun cookout with a roast pig (um… YUM) and hamburgers and hot dogs and A LOT of booze. Like putting most bars around here to shame amount of booze… Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration. Maybe it just felt like that because Little Sister was mixing my drinks and she is fucking e-v-i-l. Turning 21 for her? Really just means that all the bars and liquor stores she’s been going to for several years are now not going to get in trouble for serving alcohol to an underage girl. In all honestly, she probably drinks too much, but she is 21 and I remember myself at that age so I can’t fault her, just keep a wary eye. Her mom is on her too, she is not a stupid woman and is pretty awesome in her own right. She finally has found a man who isn’t a total asshole and treats her like she actually deserves and not like a piece of garbage, and although she has always been a beautiful, take-no-shit kind of woman, it was nice to see her truly happy and relaxed instead of guarded and on edge.

So there was much laughing and bawdy humor and eating and drinking and dancing and kids running around with nerf guns and people hanging around under tents trying to keep out of the rain. I saw a friend I hadn’t seen anywhere but facebook for a few years which was great. Little Sister and her mom finally got to meet The Peach, something Little Sister had admittedly been avoiding because as much as she loves kids, her doctors recently telling her that she could probably never have them made being around babies a little bit difficult. Princess Punk had fun with the kids there. She was the oldest with the exception of Little Sister’s cousin who was 13 and not exactly the kind of girl I wanted The Princess hanging out with. She apparently spent most of the party in her 19-year-old boyfriend’s truck making out. So… yeah… Kinda glad The Princess was playing with foam swords with the little boys there and giving piggy-back rides to the little girls. Makes me feel a little better about my own parenting skills.

I think I mentioned Little Sister is my next door neighbor… We actually share a driveway, my house is by the road and hers a ways back. So it’s just a short walk home from her house. So no worry about finding a designated driver, just bringing the girls home at their respective bedtimes and thanking The Zen Master for staying with The Peach after the first run home so I could hang out with adults and have adult conversations… I even had a conversation about politics!

Thankfully not hungover but… still kinda… well, not my usual morning self I guess.

Now I just gotta clear the post-party fog from my brain so I can go to church and then to Burlington to get The Zen Master’s birthday present.

Just a side note…

I don’t like politicians. I just don’t. 99% of them are looking out for their own best interests, not the best interests of their constituents. But I still vote. Because I pray that someone, somehow will actually make a difference and do something to pull this country out of the muck and Americans, average, everyday people, will be able to actually live here without having to struggle every. single. day. I voted for Obama, and I will vote for him again. I believe that he still possesses some slim glimmer of the actual desire to help people. Real people who live in the real world who don’t have the resources or abilities to make it without a little bit of a leg up. Which, whether you like it or not, is most of the people who live in this country.

And the thing that bugs me the most about politics in this country? IGNORANCE. The fact that people will believe any goddamn thing some asshole pundit or sleazy public official wants to spout on national television. And I am not just talking about the conservatives although they have taken it to a whole new level this election season… I’m talking about any of them. Anyone who thinks it’s okay to get up in front of the country and say things that just aren’t fucking true. And people believe it. I could (and have as The Zen Master can attest to) go off on a rant about how I do not understand how people could possibly vote for someone like Romney or Ryan because they actually believe they will be better off. The people who those two will help? The people who founded this country… Wealthy. White. Men. History shows that the “trickle-down” theory does not work. Period. So the idea that families that are just barely scraping by will benefit from cutting health care and education to give tax breaks to people who already pay less in taxes than they do? Ludicrous. And the idea the government is a bad thing? People don’t seem to understand the reality of our lives. That the evil government is the entity that keeps our roads passable and keeps planes from crashing into each other. That put building regulations in place so if an earthquake hit California like the one that hit Haiti, San Francisco would still exist. That protects us from getting H1N1 or from eating beef laden with E. Coli. That keeps our streets safe. That ensures the Prozac you are taking is actually Prozac and isn’t going to kill you or give you cancer. That takes care of us when we get older or when we have disabilities or when we lose our jobs because the same rich people that Mitt plans to protect had us grabbing our ankles while they smoked cigars and got big fat bonuses.

But I digress…

Anyway… I watched this last night and I decided to post it because even though he is a politician, and even though some of the things he says in this speech are painted with rather pretty words in order to make our Commander in Chief look good and there is no shortage of rhetoric, it’s one of the truest political speeches I’ve heard in awhile. Not that Obama isn’t believable, he just tends to have more rhetoric and “We Can Do It” than actual content.

Still think Clinton was one of the best presidents we have had lead this country in many many years. I don’t give a shit who he screwed in the Oral… I mean Oval Office.

Oh. My. God. I. Can’t. Breathe.

Funniest text message fuckup EVER.

Me- OMG there’s a nekkid woman in your bed!

Princess Punk- wat the frick

Me- Whoops that was for Daddy

Me- ROFLMAO

Princess Punk- ya better b i dont want a naked girl in my bed O.o

Ur special its creepy

~

Me (yelling down the hall)- just be glad I didn’t attach a picture HAHAHAHAHA

Princess Punk (sounding absolutely disgusted)- Oh. My. God. Thank you for not damaging me like that.

~

It took me 10 minutes to stop laughing so hard I had trouble breathing.

The Zen Master just rolled his eyes and smirked.

That was it.

Tonight. That’s what it all boils down to. That’s what makes the piddly annoyances that have plagued me this week little gnats to be brushed aside with a hassled swipe of the hand. The $156 ticket on my way to work yesterday. The fact that I forgot to count a check I wrote at the grocery store and my card got declined for a $2 coffee this morning. The absolute lack of sleep so far. The Peach’s very first cold which has turned her into a snot faucet stuck in the on position. That The Zen Master informed me tonight that he has to pick up some extra shifts so he will be working 9 out of the next 10 days. That Princess Punk left her phone (this would be the replacement phone) out in the rain during soccer practice and now it’s not working.
All this? Unimportant. Because I spent the last part of my evening with a (snot-laden) Peach on my lap, laughing raucously and giggling to the point of snorting, just because she loves mommy and that makes her happy. And then laying in bed as both my beautiful daughters drifted off to sleep as I read them a story from a book then recited a second from memory. And then The Zen Master looked at me and I was the only thought on his mind in that moment.
And that’s it. That’s what it is.  That’s all it needs to be.
And I’ll be going to sleep tonight with a smile on my face.