July 16, 2008

That’s the amount of sleep I got last night. Thirty freakin’ minutes. I managed to doze off for a bit after 4 a.m. Why? Because I was lucky enough to get what my kids were plagued with last week.

I spent the day drooling on the couch, trying to work, but feeling like I was moving in slow motion and really, all I wanted to do was go crawl in bed for the day. However, that’s sorta hard to do when you have kids to look after. I haven’t eaten in about 24 hours and the thought of food right now, is pretty much grossing me out. I am hoping I can sleep tonight, even if only for short periods at a time. Here’s to hoping wishes come true.

I’m just hoping that my kids don’t get sick again - OMG I will pack my bags and run for the hills if that’s the case. Okay, that’s an empty threat, but still, it feels good to say it. Speaking of kids…they want to eat supper. The nerve! Where is someone to look after me when I’m sick? Not fair, moms have to continue to do all their regular things regardless of whether they’re well or not.

Sigh. Must go make food for my chillins. Anyone wanting to nurse me back to health, apply within. Mkthxbai.

July 15, 2008

That is my new living room. A few different angles. Notice I like Judge Judy. Ignore the wires on the floor - we have to have those put in behind the TV and I’m guessing that will happen sometime before our youngest goes to high school. That is about 7 years from now.

I just noticed in the last photo - there’s a woman sitting on a couch with a blue cartoon type outline of a person. WTH is that? What was I watching besides Judge Judy???

Did I mention that our oldest, grown sons don’t live with us? *Insert clapping here* They’re only minutes away - just close enough for them to still annoy us but far enough away that we can pretend we’re not home. I love that! *If you’re reading this my dear sons, you know I’m just kidding 100% serious.*

1987. That was 21 years ago. And what was I doing 21 years ago? THIS.

WTF is happening? Am I in the Twilight Zone? I must be.

Grissom - the staple of CSI - is leaving the show! Yes, William Petersen is saying goodbye. This is just like the weird bullshit that’s happening on Wisteria Lane. And I don’t like it one bit.

Petersen will exit around the middle of the new season - no word on the ‘how’ they’ll do it - but he won’t be killed off like Dourdan. William will remain as an executive producer, so perhaps he’ll make some guest appearances. I swear, my kids get sick for a week and all hell breaks loose everywhere.

Okay, if my man Horatio leaves CSI Miami, then I’m storming Hollywood.

July 7, 2008

Did you ever have one of those days where you’d just like to punch someone in the face just to make yourself feel better? Trust me, it doesn’t always work. Sorry to the old lady down the street. Ha.

I decided late last night that I would watch the movie The Ruins. If you’ve not seen it, you lucky bastard and if you have, aww, I’m sorry. I’ve been wanting to see it for some time and boy am I glad I stayed up until 2:40 a.m. to see it to the end (drip, drip, drip with sarcasm). But this isn’t about the movie…

I crawled into bed shortly before 3 a.m. not really concerned that it was so late - after all, it’s summer vacation and it’s Sunday, so no need to get up super early. Hell, if my body will let me, I might even sleep in until 9-ish. However, things don’t always work out the way you plan them in your dreams. I was abruptly roused from a deep sleep at about 5 a.m by my husband, who so sweetly informed me it was my turn to get up with the kids. Huh? The kids? Aren’t they sleeping? Oh no, they’re not - they’ve been puking all over their rooms.

I stumble out of bed, half drunk-like because I’d only been alseep for about 2 hours and here I am walking into a danger zone. My son is in his bed, sleeping since hubby had gotten up with him and cleaned him up. Which, sounds great but when I walked into the kids bathroom, there was a little present for me in the form of splattered vomit all over the sink, countertop and mirror. I back out of the crime scene room and head into my daughter’s room. She’s standing beside her bed, looking very pale and apologizing that she got a wee bit of barf on her pj shirt.

I tell her it’s okay, and at that point, am thinking, okay, so it’s just the bathroom that’s a disaster but daughter’s room is untarnished, just her little tee a bit yucky, which we can strip off and put a new one on. Simple! No. Not simple.

I take her shirt off and get a clean one out and as I’m pushing her hair back, I realize it’s wet. Ya, not from having a bath several hours ago but from upchuckness. I go closer to her bed to inspect it, and all three of her blankets were bombed and her pillow. Not so unscathed after all.

Now normally, although it’s a gross prospect cleaning up puke, I would relish in the fact that I could dump the barfy bedding in the washer and turn it on and then just dry it in the morning. However, we don’t have a washer or a dryer. Our new house didn’t come with them, so although we’re obviously going to purchase a set, we haven’t yet. So that means, uh, I have to ball up the bedding and put it in my future laundry room and drive it to our other house and wash it later.

I get my child cleaned up, make her bed, put her back in bed and go tackle their bathroom. After a bottle of bleach and 2 rolls of paper towels, I finally get back in bed, only to be awake again in less than 2 hours. You see where this is going. The kids were lethargic most of the day with frequent trips to the bathroom - well, I should say all three bathrooms. They couldn’t just pick on room to barf in, nope, they liked variety, therefore I spent my day cleaning three bathrooms on rotation. Oh ya, and add to the mix, I got what they had and although I didn’t actually toss anything, I felt queasy most of the day, laying on the couch inbetween bathroom scrubbings.

Not exactly how I planned on spending my Sunday. My kids had a break of being sick for about 2 hours in the evening but were soon back to the sickness. Both went to bed early and I’m crossing my fingers that they sleep through the night….except, oh you’re kidding me….I hear someone up and it’s midnight….

Better get my rubber gloves on and get out my scrub pail. Sweet freakin’ dreams.