This may be a long shot but once you see The Lame Sauce's profile pic and then my Grade 6 School Photo, you'll see the resemblance and be intrigued
Other than that you need to know I'm the honoured guest blogger over at he Lame Sauce so get your eyes over there and take a look! I promise you won't be disappointed, the photo itself is worth the clicks.
Showing posts with label The Lame Sauce. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Lame Sauce. Show all posts
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
192 Pounds
Today I missed work.
Let me clarify. Today I missed quiet. Today I missed sitting still. Today I missed going to the bathroom by myself with no one commenting on my "'gina" or asking me if I am pooping.
Don't get me wrong, I like being at home and I like my kids. I even love them. Today though I kind of hit a wall.
This is a wall made out of fatigue and a general lack of patience. My husband's birthday was on the weekend which meant I cleaned like a bat out of hell all day Saturday. For no particular reason, as it turns out (stay tuned for a guest post over at The Lame Sauce Thursday). Then we were up late and had a busier day than planned yesterday. This coupled with no less than three midnight visits from the three year old and a bear of a husband who snores equals a tired bitchy me.
So how do I cope with this? Do I exercise to combat stress? Read a good book? Take the highly recommended bubble bath? No. I eat. I eat a giant Hershey bar. I eat some beef jerky. I then eat two Sloppy Joes. Oh and before 9:30 a.m., I finished off the birthday cake. Even though I'd already had some Cap'n'Crunch. Can anyone say food issues? Anyone?
Last night I dreamt my husband made me weigh myself and I tipped the scales at a healthy 192 lbs. Which I do not weigh in real life. And I don't want to weigh. That being said, I think that was my subconscious telling me to get the hell off the food train before it derails and all I can wear is elastic-waisted pants and it's no longer just a fun choice.
I digress. This morning I fantasized about getting up before anyone else and showering, dressing like it mattered, applying make-up, doing my hair and leaving the house just before 8 a.m. And then maybe grabbing a coffee and going to the office and quietly sitting in my office and checking my email and sipping my coffee. No one would ask me to get them any cereal or argue over who gets to sit beside 'McQueen' or want to watch Caillou. I never ever had to clean up anyone's bodily functions or bathe them after a poop gone wrong.
There was adult conversation. Uninterrupted adult conversation.
Instead I have perfected a voice I do for Chuy the puppy. Turns out, he has a lisp.
I need to get out more. I need sleep. I need to have my jaw wired shut.
In the meantime, someone pass the cake.
Let me clarify. Today I missed quiet. Today I missed sitting still. Today I missed going to the bathroom by myself with no one commenting on my "'gina" or asking me if I am pooping.
Don't get me wrong, I like being at home and I like my kids. I even love them. Today though I kind of hit a wall.
This is a wall made out of fatigue and a general lack of patience. My husband's birthday was on the weekend which meant I cleaned like a bat out of hell all day Saturday. For no particular reason, as it turns out (stay tuned for a guest post over at The Lame Sauce Thursday). Then we were up late and had a busier day than planned yesterday. This coupled with no less than three midnight visits from the three year old and a bear of a husband who snores equals a tired bitchy me.
So how do I cope with this? Do I exercise to combat stress? Read a good book? Take the highly recommended bubble bath? No. I eat. I eat a giant Hershey bar. I eat some beef jerky. I then eat two Sloppy Joes. Oh and before 9:30 a.m., I finished off the birthday cake. Even though I'd already had some Cap'n'Crunch. Can anyone say food issues? Anyone?
Last night I dreamt my husband made me weigh myself and I tipped the scales at a healthy 192 lbs. Which I do not weigh in real life. And I don't want to weigh. That being said, I think that was my subconscious telling me to get the hell off the food train before it derails and all I can wear is elastic-waisted pants and it's no longer just a fun choice.
I digress. This morning I fantasized about getting up before anyone else and showering, dressing like it mattered, applying make-up, doing my hair and leaving the house just before 8 a.m. And then maybe grabbing a coffee and going to the office and quietly sitting in my office and checking my email and sipping my coffee. No one would ask me to get them any cereal or argue over who gets to sit beside 'McQueen' or want to watch Caillou. I never ever had to clean up anyone's bodily functions or bathe them after a poop gone wrong.
There was adult conversation. Uninterrupted adult conversation.
Instead I have perfected a voice I do for Chuy the puppy. Turns out, he has a lisp.
I need to get out more. I need sleep. I need to have my jaw wired shut.
In the meantime, someone pass the cake.
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