Happy Valentine's Day

Well folks, it's here, and I'm not sure where to begin when describing the many unexpected and surprising directions this particular Valentine's Day has taken...

It's been raw, wet, hot, a little dirty and I even saw the 'doctor', if you know what I mean...  Allow me to elaborate:

Raw:  The cinnamon buns I attempted to bake for my family as a special treat.  They were of the frozen variety and were supposed to defrost for six to 8 hours or overnight prior to baking them.  I went with six hours.  Mistake.  They are burnt (this is where the hot part of my day comes in) on the outside and undercooked on the inside. Mmmmm.

Wet:  The couch after I used my Little Bissell Green Machine to clean the vomit off of it.  This morning.  Before coffee.  Not sure if it was the cat or dog who puked but it was special all the same.

Dirty:  The poop I cleaned up first thing this morning, before my coffee was even made.  Again, I am not sure if it was the cat or the dog (the small one obviously, if it were the Golden Retriever, there'd be no mistaking it and he doesn't do that, he's a good dog).

'Doctor':  My two youngest children were ill all weekend.  The seven year old was not feeling better and developed a weird rash on his face.  Turns out he has a "nasty" chest infection, possibly pneumonia (just waiting to hear back from the x-ray results), and "Fifth Disease".  Fifth Disease sounds worse than it is.  It's just a fairly benign viral rash. 

Just call me Dr. Oz.  Or don't, because I'd find that fairly insulting.

So, as you can see, this day has been unparalleled in sights, sounds, and circumstance.  I  am a lucky lady.  Lucky in love and lucky in life.  I did buy myself a box of hair dye.  It's a new kind that foams up.  So that's exciting.  It's supposed to cover 100% grey, so that's even more exciting.  I  do have some peanut butter cups for later.

Isn't love grand?

Swinging

Ha ha, I bet some of you thought that was going to have a dirty connotation. I don't write dirty posts. Mostly because too many of my immediate and extended family members read this stuff and I do have a few boundaries. Anyway, the swinging I'm talking about is in regards to my mood.

9 a.m. Up and away! Dropped the kids off and going to meet 'Stacey' for breakfast.

12:30 p.m. Down. Sweaty and hot from housework and realization I've barely made a dent in all that needs to be done around here.

2:30 p.m. Up a little thanks to a ginormous bag of Mini Eggs and a glass of milk and a little couch time with a book.

3:30 p.m. Up and away! (again). At 'Stacey's' with the kids; watching them have a blast in the paddling pool and on the Slip 'n' Slide and feeling very relaxed.

5 p.m. Zen. Getting supper ready; home is, for all intents and purposes, pretty tidy; children are quietly watching a movie and ring a ding ding, Big Brother starts tonight!

8:46 p.m. Plummet like the crash of '29. Fatigue has set in. House is quiet. Trying to decide what I want to eat while I enjoy the circus that is Big Brother. Must have junk food but can't decide what I want. I'm hot. I'm tired. I'm bloated. No more Zen. Sore neck muscles and slightly distended abdomen. You know what might lift me out of this precarious mood? Grape vodka and Sprite over a shitload of ice. Do I have grape vodka? No. Fuck. Do I have Sprite? No. Fuck. Do I have ice? Yes, but who gives a fuck?

I'm going to the store.