Here is to a Day Full of Laughs, Pistachios, Normal Hormone Levels and Great Sex
By suburbiainterrupted on October 17, 2012
Yesterday happened to be one of those days that started off shitty thanks to the total "I could so easily rip your head off" mood I woke up in. Thank you so much PMS and the stuck on repeat, seems to be never-ending menstrual cycle I now have. Have I mentioned how much I am so enjoying getting older? My 30-something self has become a battle of wills. Me against the machine. The machine being age, my body, hormones. I am pretty sure my face now breaks out more than it did when I was a teenage girl. My emotional state of mind seems to now sprint between normal (honestly though what the hell is normal) and borderline institutional in 3.1 seconds. It is crazy. I feel crazy. Hormones are a fucking bitch. I mean seriously.
I also woke up yesterday morning realizing it was Tuesday. Tuesday is volunteer in Diva's kindergarten class day. Wonderful. Any other day I love being in there. I dreaded the thought yesterday morning. Like really dreaded it. I kept thinking of reasons I could give to play hooky. I got dressed. Got the three little kids up. I was pouring cereal, all the time contemplating what excuse I could give Diva's teacher. "Mommy, today you come to my class!" Diva squealed and hugged my leg. Well...fuck a duck.
I made the kids lunches. Contemplating which excuse was now off the table. I was going to have to put my big girl pants on, reign in the bitchiness and head ripping off feelings, plaster a smile on my face and go help the kindergartener's with an activity. Of course the activity involved cutting and gluing. I hate the days I get the cut and glue activities. Cut out pieces disappear Glue is being used everywhere except for where it should be used. There is always one boy who is trying to cut a hole into their uniform shirt. But Diva gets so excited when I am in her class. She made it worth it.
I got home and decided to call and vent my opinion about the issue of the school buses being sweat boxes of hell. (Click here to read back story). After getting the run around and being told the 16 different scenarios as to when bus windows can and can't be open and when the AC can and can't be used on the bus, I ended the conversation by asking the school district employee if they forget (while sitting in their ACed office) that it is still 90 degrees outside. Then I hung up.
I felt SO MUCH BETTER. I ripped that woman's head off. I admittedly was not nice to her at the end of the conversation. My school district pisses me off so much. Everything about it is ridiculous. I won't get started on that tangent. So I ripped that woman's head off and felt better just in time for the little kids to get home from school. Amazingly, they got their homework done in like ten minutes. I love easy homework days. It is nice to have those days thrown into the mix of usually crazy homework days. Our 3rd graders seem to have more homework than our 7th graders. It really boggles my mind as to that reasoning but what the heck do I know.
So homework is done. Snacks have been eaten. The kids are off playing. And then the 9yo brings to my attention, nonchalantly may I add, the ant bite on his leg. Ummm...the affects of this ant bite were not so nonchalant. The affected area was bigger than a softball. Here, I will show you...
I was seriously now thinking spider bite. But he was certain it was a big tree ant. Either way, this thing was huge. I gave him a benadryl. He couldn't swallow it. Next thing I know he had chewed it and was now complaining that his tongue was numb. Wonderful is all I thought. I am going to have to explain the benadryl OD and why this bug bite has not been looked at. (Thank you hormones for dropping to doomsday level). Two minutes later, tongue was no longer numb. An hour later, the bite was looking a million times better.
The day went on. I refused to cook, so the kids ate chicken nuggets and garlic bread. Each one asked if something was wrong...because I didn' t have a huge homemade meal waiting for them. They are going to hate college. I won't be there to cook for them. Although the reality is, most of the kids only eat about a third of what I actually cook. I think my cooking is more a thing for them. Like, our mom cook's all the time. Or our mom is the only one who can empty the litter box. Both of those things are my things. I hate that the litter box is my thing btw.
Kids were fed, showered and now playing a race car game on the xbox with The Big Guy. I was observing. Ok, I was f-ing around on twitter and observing. And then my mother called.
Mom: (Frantic) OMG I think there was just an earthquake. Honest to god. Remember that one when you were little? It was way worse than that. OMG. I need to go call the neighbors to make sure they are ok.
Me: Ok. Bye.
I turned to twitter. "Mom just called from NH. Said there was earthquake. Is she crazy?" (I just realized I have no clue if my mom reads my blog or not. Mom, if you are reading, know this is all in humor.) I scrolled my timeline. I saw nothing about the earthquake. I told The Big Guy I think my mom may be losing it and explained. Finally, I started seeing a few tweets from people asking if an earthquake had just occurred. My mom wasn't crazy. It was touch and go there for a minute. I could not find any information to prove her correct.
Video game time was coming to an end. As the final lap was being completed, the 8yo, out of the blue says, "Everyone needs to walk around with a childlike spirit in them." So, as I am shaking my head, wondering where this kid comes up with the stuff he says, Diva chimes in. Of course she had to chime in. "Well, mommy doesn't have a child spirit in heeeerrr." Well thank you so much my ego boosting mini me. Fuck. Just what I wanted to freaking hear. I became immediately over the kids. Thank goodness it was now lay down and relax in you bed, quiet time.
I turned to my addiction (and dinner).
Sweet Chili pistachios.
I am a total addict for these things. Everybody's Nuts, you guys have nailed this flavor. If you guys have not tried them, go. Run. They are awesome. And I am not getting paid to say that. Wish I was. But I am not. But I am pimping them out because I am that stinking in love with them. And here is the best part. If you find an unopened pistachio in the bag, they want you to call an 800 number to get a free bag. An unopened pistachio in the bags is like a Golden Ticket from Charlie and The Chocolate Factory. Your odds are not high in scoring a ticket. Or a free bag. Believe me. I have bought lots of bags. Nothing.
Until now bitches. I FOUND THE GOLDEN TICKET! I FOUND THE GOLDEN TICKET! The Big Guy actually found it, but whats his is mine, so technically, I get credit right?! Or at least ownership of the prized, uncracked pistachio.
The amount of joy that I got out of having one of these bad boys in the pack was ridiculous even for my standards. I can't wait for the day to come when I win the lottery. If we base my level of OMG I won something on this pistachio, I will have to be restrained upon hearing the news about the winning lotto jackpot. Although, who needs the lotto jackpot when you have the Golden Tickets of pistachios?! I am so calling the 800 number. Honestly, I could care less about the free bag. I want to call to ask how many people actually call to redeem their free pistachios and if proof of life is needed for this usually elusive nut. And since I will already be scaring the call center rep, I may as well tell her that I am pimping out the company for free.
Maybe they will send me a lifetime supply. Which, at this point, will be A LOT of pistachios. I will not confess as to how many bags of these I have eaten over the last two weeks.
Yes, I did say bags. Don't judge. I told you I was an addict. First step is to admitting it. Although, I am not yet ready to move onto Step 2.
(An intervention may soon be needed.)
Here is to a day full of laughs, pistachios, normal hormone levels and great sex. Or in my case, laughs, pistachios, homework, baseball, baseball moms, late dinner, more than likely, sprinting hormones and maybe some sex. I did get my socks rocked right off me last night. One cannot be greedy.
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