I stopped myself from posting this morning at 2 am. i didn’t even get out of bed to type. it was good though, and thoroughly rambly, hitting on what its like to be married to an alcoholic, what it is like to remember that was almost 5 years ago, how fun it was to remember i have a kickass libido… what its like to be sweating in bed with a 7-year-old, what its like to be ‘happy’ that the kid who is sick now cleans up his own throwup. He even put a towel down on his own bed before he got into it. because you know, laundry. He is 14. Oh, it was a post for the ages.
But I just lay there instead.
Every single kid in the house has been down with throw up in the past week. There are only three kids here, my hysterics aside, it is not a monkeyhouse or a bunnyhutch.
Who am i kidding? its totally a monkeyhouse here. These kids live with me, the winging-est mom of the neighborhood. I think i have hard-and-fast rules and you know? one smudge of intelligent resistance and the gates are down. i’m talking about negotiables really, like, screens before school and things of that nature.
Although I’d be hard-pressed to think of something besides cruelty that is truly outlawed.
and, astonishingly, i still have to deal with that one anyways. We have …children. They have the same cruelty adults do, its just less well-honed.
sigh. aren’t you glad i took my time this morning, to give you something well-crafted and thought-provoking? hmm?
I’m what is called a ‘pantser’. I just learned about this, its a term, for real, for writers who flow ‘by the seat of their pants’. not a lot of planning here.
i’m doing fine though, fine. i’m taking my vitamins. and i’m planning on a bath, later.
fine.
call me. someone.
**-oh, also discovered when the 14-year-old woke me up at 1 to tell me he was sick? my hearing aide is broken. so i’m doing this all deaf. which you might not think is a big deal. but it is.
