Saturday, February 6, 2010

I can do whatever I want on my blog. Even complain.

Yep. That's right. I am going to complain.

**Disclaimer: I am very happy to be alive. I have many good things in my life - a wonderful and loving husband who has steady and gainful employmebt AND does dishes and laundry, healthy children, heat, a roof over my head, two working vehicles, good friends, faith, etc. By no means am I discrediting any of these and other wonderful aspects of my life. I am thankful for my blessings.**

Carrying on.

This week has sucked. Sucked a big one. I know that really isn't a very creative use of the mass vocabulary I have available to use, but it's all I got left.

Since last Friday:

Boys cutting and splitting wood. Throw wood in back of truck. Teeny, tiny piece of wood makes it through grill protecting back window. Window shatters. More falls off each time we shut the door.

Meeting with Guardian Ad Litem (GAL) in custody case falls through. Because - he is sick but doesn't bother to call and tell anyone. I arrange childcare, in a snow storm, lose control of my car and end up in a ditch, borrow a friend's car, and still manage to make it there on time only to be told, "See, the thing is, Andy's sick." WTF! And you just figured this out 5 minutes ago? What, you lawyer people with secretaries can't pick up the effin' phone??!! What I said outloud was, "Completely Unprofessional."

Nausea is so bad I can't cook, clean, or eat. I don't even want to knit. I know. I lnow.

Yesterday, boys cutting wood. Son gets hand crushed in log splitter. Drive 1/2 hour to hospital. Prayers lead to good ending. Only 1 finger hurt, bone chipped, drill a hole in fingernail (ewww!), bandage up. Leave. Stop for dinner. Boy asks for puppy. Endured "People of Walmart" stares while at hospital and dinner. Left house without getting dressed. No bra. Tie-dyed nightshirt. Too big pants. Hippy shoes and stripey socks. No shoes on little kids, but they did have coats. Hair not brushed. Teeth and breath bad.
Putting chopped onions into a pan with olive oil resulted in a hot drop of oil flying out of the pan INTO MY EYE. I don't know how, but my eyelid shut and I just got a burn on the lid, and not my actiual eyeball.

I wasn't wearing my glasses because my one-year had seriously smudged then in the previous hour while I tried to get him to sleep. My efforts were fruitless. He ended up biting me on the inside of my thigh.

Today, same child got a hold of a can of soda and threw it. It exploded and spewed all over my living room and kitchen.

Ok. I'm done.

If you want to read a real blog post, go visit Candy over at Candy Rant (see sidebar, can't get a link right now). She had a good one about embarrassment. I left a comment that I could have made a post about - but I didn't. Said week has been too sucky.

Come back next time for something more cheery.


alicia said...

I'm a catholic midwife, haven't seen your blog before, would like to correspond if you are interested.

Anonymous said...

My dear, dear mamamidwife. Mama said there's be days like these...strange days indeed...
Hoping this week is MUCH better.
~The OTHER Heather

laurazim said...

You rock my socks right off my feeties. (That's a good thing.)

Truly, last week crawled up from the stinky depths of Hates and spewed bile all over you.

Thanks be to God, it's over, and you survived. Some serious work on the part of your Guardian Angel (not to mention The Boy's!), some powerful intercession from some awesome saints (props to Raphael, Luke and Michael), and a fantastic homily from Bishop on Sunday really made it worth it, didn't it?

And now you have a raging head cold. And we're supposed to get snowed in, again. Rats in a poke!

Man, it can only get better!!!!!!

Anonymous said...

It's okay to have a bad day... it's even better to write about it! I'm sorry your week sucked!!

Anonymous said...

Wow. I for one am glad you shared that. I'm not a big fan of the "keep-your-struggles-to-yourself-or-God-will-think-you're-ungrateful" set.
You really did have an awful week. If everyone always kept their struggles to themselves, I would be operating under the assumption that I'm the only one who has crappy weeks. So, thanks again.
I am so, so, so, sorry you're going through nausea. It makes everything else so much more difficult.