Some Days are Good. Some Days are Bad. This Week has Been Awful.

I wish there was something great to say to the world. ... I guess the greatest thing there is to say is:  I'm still alive.  And so are the kids.  Big D . . . . . barely hanging on, ready to move into his own bachey pad.

I've been having quite a difficult week. So difficult in fact, I don't even have anything sarcastic to say about it.

The awfulness kinda started on Sunday, where the kids thought it would be grand to cry all day.  I liked that so much.  And then Murnice grew a fever.

Monday the kids cried all day.  Except I was home alone, because Big D still has a job.  And I reached an all time low of screaming and yelling, but not being satisfied with the decibel being used.  I wanted the yelps and roars to be louder.  I don't think that's ever happened to me before.  Generally, raising the voice brings some sort of relief.

Normally, I can hold everything together like a regular old adult when Big D comes home at regular time.  The count down begins at 4 pm.  And usually everyone survives.

But Monday night, Big D attended the stupidest event of the year.  Literally.

But, on our shared calender, it said that "relief" would be here at 7pm.  That's what it said.  And I literally believe the calender.  Because I have to put my hope in something.  I need to have some sort of count down.  And 7 is only 1 hour later than normal.  And I thought I might be able to be a normal adult and hang on to life in an orderly fashion for one extra hour that day.

And 7 turned to 7:30, and I had all the crying and screaming I could take for 3 years piled on top of each other.  And then I turned really ugly.  I think black tentacles crawled out of my butt.  And maybe, but I'm not sure - I turned into her.

You're probably wondering what the "stupidest event of the year" is.  And I would be pleased as punch to tell you all.

Stupidest Event of the Year:
Some big wig that probably only practices missionary position, who has way too much money and has the need to flaunt, feel important, flaunt some more and a whole array of other issues that I want to talk about but won't because I want to show Big D how much of a big normal adult I am sometimes. . . . . .decides that there is no other way possible, to show his appreciation to the world that he employs, then to throw a stupid dumb butt clam bake.

Big D finally came home around 8 - just in time to put Blessing 1 and Blessing 2 to bed.  And I was in such a sour mood, I thought it highly appropriate to write more about flushing babies down the toilet.

That put the icing on the cake.  I was in such a wicked mood when I was done.  It marinated all night, and was quite potent on Tuesday morning.

At this point Murnice was feeling better but complaining about a slight sore throat.  Ed, on the other hand could not keep his fingers out of his anus.  He was itching and scratching so bad, to the point where he would wake up in the middle of the night and ask for "man-unders" just so he could scratch his poor anus.  I thought it was a rash at first, but nothing was helping it.  In fact it was getting worse.  And then Mother suggested pin worms.

Glory be.

Our day Tuesday, was just as bad as Monday. So much gnashing of teeth.  Mainly from Ed.  Obnoxiously more so than usual.

By the time Wednesday came around, I was emotionally spent and done.  All of my grace had been used up.  Empty of patience.  Sweet words and kind smiles ran away days ago.  And I had nothing left to give.

I managed a doctor run where I was told Murnice had strep and Ed had a staph infection.

And then I went home and held my head in my hands and waited until 3, when I promptly called Big D and told him that if he cared about the sanctity of human life . . . . now was the time to show me where he stood on that whole debate.

So today is Thursday.  I've had the chance to breath 40% more than the other days.  I managed a trip to Marshalls with a 79% satisfaction rate.  I fed the kids chemicals and dye for lunch aka mac and cheese.  And I'm growing my armpit hair out.  I can almost twisty it.  I have passed out 4 kisses.  And even muttered the words "I love you".  AND I know what we're having for dinner, and it's only 4 o'clock.  Feeling almost like a queen.

Take Aways
1)  Be thankful for sperm donors who have the kindness in their heart to leave their plush, quiet offices to come hold screaming blessings.
2)  Run Away.
3)  Consciously breathe.
4)  Embrace the all time lows, it makes any other day seem glorious.