Got no feel, I got no rhythm/I just keep losin’ my beat

Whew, what a rough evening. I almost totally and completely lost it. I almost collapsed into a fit of tears. At least twice. But I didn’t…much.

It was just one of those evenings….Deputy Dad’s working, the girls wouldn’t mind/wouldn’t stop fighting/wouldn’t behave, Big Boy was tired and cranky (and so, might I add, was I). The joyride that was our evening reached its pinnacle when, as I was simultaneously herding a nudie-tootie Big Boy to the bathtub and yelling at the girls to “STOP PLAYING AND CLEAN UP YOUR ROOM,” Big Boy somehow managed to make two HUGE puddles of piddle, just centimeters apart, ON THE CARPET, with one wave of his wee willie winkie. And boy oh boy, Mom, is that just the funniest thing you’ve ever seen or what? Good grief, he was giddy and giggly, he was so damned proud of himself. Ah yes, MEN. (*insert dramatic rolling of the eyes here*)

Oh, and did I mention that we ate supper out tonight, and in very close proximity to a child molester? Yeah, so THAT was fun. Especially the part where I pulled the girls close to my face and did the Don’t look right now, but…no, don’t stare, just look over there in a minute…no, not now, okay, stop staring thing with them, explaining to them that if they ever saw that man anywhere, they were to turn the other way, and never allow themselves to be anywhere near him or (for the love of all that is holy) alone with him. And, can I just say? It pisses me right the frick off that I had to do that. I mean, hot-stinging-tears-of-rage pissed. It’s so freakin’ unfair that the world is in such a state that I have to say things like, “He touches kids in places they’re not supposed to be touched” to my little girls. (They asked why they needed to stay away from him, and weren’t satisfied with my “He does bad stuff to kids” answer. How else do you quickly and discreetly (we were in a restaurant, remember?) answer the question, “What kind of bad stuff?”)

Anyway. I think I came home already upset and ticked off after that little incident, and things kind of went downhill from there. Ordinarily, on a Friday night, bathtimes and bedtimes are all but disregarded, since all the other nights are so tightly scheduled and inflexible. But we have to get up early tomorrow and drive an hour to the pediatrician’s office to get all the kids’ flu shots (oh JOY! *insert another dramatic rolling of the eyes here*). Yeah, remember that appointment I’d forgotten? Well, tomorrow we pay the fiddler in the form of not getting to sleep in on the ONE FREAKING DAY we usually get to sleep in. BLARGH.

And holy hell, is this not just THE most boring post EVER? I’m boring myself, I think, which means it must be time to just shut the heck up already.

Oh! P.S. Thank you all for your kind and supportive comments on the last post. I went ahead and put the PayPal button up this morning (left sidebar, under the calendar), being careful to copy and paste the Hateful, Terrible, Machine Language exactly as it appeared on the Paypal site (except for the slight modification to include the Bartles and Jaymes reference when you mouse over it), but I must’ve done something wrong, because RazDreams can’t see it…? I see it on my screen, though. What’s the deal? Can you see it? Is it just a figment of my imagination? Is Tripod playing a trick on me? Anyone?….Anyone?….


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