You know that feeling when your stressed and it seems like life just keeps piling up more crap to get stressed about and you want to just roll over and play dead with a blanket over your head until life finally forgets you exist?
I'm totally playing possum right now.
Under my roof I currently have a quadriplegic child with a raging skin infection. His cheek looks like it's about to fall off. I have a husband who has a broken ankle and is hobbling around like a geriatric one legged bum. And then there is Frac who's abdomen is being held together with tape. Tape! Not stitches. Not glue. Just little steri-strips that are threatening to fall off so that the wound reopens and his innards fall out.
Add to that and I can't stand up straight because of my crippled back and we have one healthy member of the family. And she's currently trying to kill herself by taking volleyball shots to the head.
And my dog needs knee surgery.
Life is awesome.
I should tell you, before you invest any more time reading this post, that I have absolutely no point in mind as I type this. I'm rambling.
I'm still laughing.
Also, I guess hanging onto that dress (that my mother made for me) all these years finally served a purpose.
Ah, to be 14 with a corsage once more...
It's sad when you realize your 15 year old daughter makes for a better version of your 14 year old self than you ever did.
In other news, I've joined iVillage Canada and their team so that I may spread my inane ramblings even further. My first post is live and I'd love if you would go check it out so that the powers that be that hired me actually think there was some merit to bringing me aboard. Click here to learn whatI have in common with a rat farmer in Alabama.
Over on Babble Voices I've been busy with my blog Hogwash From a Hoser. I wrote a post about teenaged hoodlums. I know all about teen hoodlums because I was once a hoodlum myself. Not that I'd admit that in a court of law or to my children's faces. Ahem.
I also wrote about my hatred of Halloween and how this one particular holiday keeps kicking me in the arse. Between dead kids, exploding appendixes and people who refuse to give disabled kids in costumes any candy when they are trick or treating I'm giving Halloween the bird. And not the nice type of bird if you know what I mean.
Now, if y'all excuse me, I plan on spending the rest of the day surfing the net, laughing at Lindsay Lohan and eating enough ice cream that I'll eventually grow udders and moo.
In other words, I've got work to do.