Saturday, September 22, 2007

A Weekend Alone

What an amazing thing to have a weekend alone. Joe took the offspring to visit the grandparents. Meanwhile, I'm torn between staring at the walls and actually getting something done. I have a Bradley Reunion tonight, so I at the very least I have to have the downstairs in tip top shape.

My creative mind if all aflutter with the great and wonderful things I can accomplish. My reality based mind knows I'll be lucky to have at the downstairs clean. :)


Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Dream can wreck you day!

The title is a bit misleading. I'm actually not talking about a dream. I'm talking a nightmare. Big, scary, horrifying nightmare that leaves you with nightmare hangover. Personally, I blame the Tylenol PM.

What could be more upsetting than having a screaming fight with your mother in your dreams? Especially, if you're not apt to fight at all with your mother. Quick synopsis: Mom, the kids and I are at a health club. I need help getting them through the gate. She refused saying something like, "You can do it yourself." Holy Moly! The war that ensued. Now since I love interrupting dreams and can really hit the nail on the head sometimes, I course know exactly what this dream meant. It had nothing to do with my mom, but more so with everyone in the family.

I'm in a cast. A walking cast, but still a cast. Something you may or may not know about wearing a cast, even a walking cast, is the fact that it's a pain in the arse. Everything you do becomes a complete hassle. So, yesterday when for the millionth time Griffin got a hold of the hose and sprayed himself and others hanging around, I could do nothing. The cast can not get wet and therefore neither can I. I truly needed help, and couldn't get it. Very frustrating. I would like to point out that had it been an actual emergency the cast would have been soaked.

The impending doom of having to have surgery on this Achilles tendon, and what help I can realistically expect weighs, as they say, heavy on my mind. Just being home in the walking cast is difficult. There's things I want to do but the difficulty is too much. Really I don't know how we're going to handle this.

The fear has set in.


Friday, September 7, 2007

Is the alcohol really worth it?

There was an impromptu soiree at Amy's for the GG's last night. What a blast. It was going to be just Patty, Amy and I, but lo' and behold we almost all showed up. Not that hanging out with just Patty and Amy would have been a drag, but three people to eight people, well -- that's party.

So, on several occasions I've made the comment that I'm not going to drink anymore. Oddly enough, I end up drinking. I will not drink wine anymore I've decided. That is definite!!! I feel instantly like crap with wine. This is now the whole thing occurs. I take a couple sips of wine and think, "I could definitely NOT have this and complete my life quite nicely." Then, a couple minutes later this is what happens. . . I'm not kidding here . . . after just two, maybe three sips. A very heavy feeling takes over just above my knees. Very disconcerting. Next, THE HEAT. After around half the glass I starting getting hot. Gross hot. Internal hot. Hot flash, hot. Then I feel bad the next morning, after one glass. It's just not worth it.

That is all rational. Everything I just said is fact. Now the psycho babble. My parents love wine. Live for wine. Used to drink an entire bottle at lunch in France. So, imagine their surprise when they very own child thinks it tastes like lighter fluid, even the best stuff, and would prefer a Diet Pepsi to a rare glass of vino. I know, I should be shot at dawn. It drove my dad insane that I wouldn't drink a glass of wine with dinner. He equated it to me being juvenile. Fortunately, the little things he said still stick with me. Eventually a glass of wine will be offered. Thinking to myself I'll say, "Maybe, this wine. Maybe I'll enjoy this glass. Maybe I'm a bit older and the taste buds will rejoice." Hasn't happened yet!

So at the GG impromptu I had my new drink of choice: Limeade and vodka. Oh, so yummy. I will partake of that. I will have a 7 & 7. And an occasional beer. Wine shall not pass my lips again . . . unless it's in a sauce. Now, that's a good use for wine.


Tuesday, September 4, 2007

To Mindy

If you found me, you're a good detective. I did have another blog, but honestly it was just a bunch of fluff. You were right. I deleted it.


Oh the first day of school . . .

As I stood in line with the boys at Target after the first day of school, I noticed there was a dried tear on Gus' cheek. As the totally geek mom I am, I have to say, "Gus did something happen today that made you cry?" He completely freaks out and screams at me, "I'm not talking to you."

Ummm, I think something happened today that made Gus cry. I tried to back handily get the information, but nothing was coming and he became very mad. I laid low. After we arrived home I was bombarded with work to get the house ready for class tonight, Griffin, a haircut for me, not a moment alone with Gus. So now I sit here wondering . . . what happened to this poor kid?

Are we getting to the point in life that I actually turn into a mom that can't understand anything? Am I the geek mom? Can I screw this up, so bad he'll never talk to me again about what's going on? I assume the answer is yes. I must tread lightly, cautiously, carefully.


Sunday, September 2, 2007

It's been a long rough summer.

I can't believe in one and half days my children will be heading off to school. I never spend a minute feeling I haven't spent enough time with them and that this is a sad time. Instead, I feel I've probably spent too much time with them. I also feel they've spent too much with each other. As the school year quickly approaches I can wait to send them on their way.

This is not my first blog. I've been doing it for a couple years on a different server. Unfortunately, I find the other blog to be very "mean" spirited and I hope the tone of Only Dead Fish Go with the Flow is a bit brighter.

Kids in school a bit more time to meself, better attitude, better writing. One can only hope for the best.