Nervous breakdown? Why, yes, I would love one!

This has been a crappy week so far. Our Road Runner service decided it would work when it wanted to, so I missed a couple of days of work, which I stupidly agreed to make up instead of just using vacation time that I have and won't need this year, since I will earn more than I will use.

Then, something happened that has thrown me into OCD overdrive. I will not share (don't bother asking) but it really set me off and now I want to scrub something, anything, UGH!

Fortunately, I don't have to do anything that normally gives me a headache this week. I can only take one crisis at a time. If I had to fly this week, we would have a problem.

One bright moment, the icky thing that happened, I DID call Jerry and share with him, so he can feel all nasty too. That was fun. I like to spread the love when I can.

John, of course, thinks I am just insane. No kidding.

Being the eternal optimist that I am (actually I have come to believe it is not optimism, it is just that I am too lazy to waste energy crying and whining about things), I assume things will pick up soon. I think my first step in that direction will be requesting my vacation time for one of the days I missed. Screw em. I work my ass off (stop laughing, I do!) for them and am pretty sick of always trying to make them happy. My cable was out, just pay me for the day and move on.

So, now that we have my bitching session behind us...let's proceed with a decent post.

I read a headline on AOL when I went to check my email that "Scientists discover naked mole rats feel no pain" I was interested in this, since I love Kim Possible on Disney Channel. I do admit I never read the article, since I was distracted by the 80 emails I had, NONE of which were anything but crap. Big big pat on that back for that AMAZING SPAM filter, AOL!

Afterwards, when I was trying to fill my head with ANYTHING but the urge to take 50 showers in scalding water (see above), I started to think about it. How did scientists discover this? Did they poke them with pins? Twist their little mole rat arms? And if that is all it takes to make groundbreaking discoveries, why in the hell didn't I become a scientist? Make 100 grand a year beating on small hairless rodents? I can DO THAT!

So, I am applying to UB for the Fall. My major? Science, of course!

Sometimes I worry about me.

Okay, I do it often....but not usually about whether I have gone completely over the edge of sanity.

I love High School Musical 2. I am 35, but I love it. The music is good. I give it a 10 because I can shake my tailfeather to it (not that ANYONE other than john and the kids will EVER see that). I am currently listening to it. I have it on a CD that is in my car. I bought the DVD. I was a coward and hid behind my children (Gainey has a crush on Corbin Bleu and loves Ashley Tisdale, Court likes Lucas Grabeel), but no more. I admit it. I love them all. I think they are a talented bunch of kids and yes, yes, yes, I think that Zac Efron is a great-looking kid. Since he is young enough to be my son, I don't have a crush per se, but I like to watch him on TV. And I know what it is. Those freaking eyes of his. Like Martina McBride. I could stare at the two of them for hours. I have a thing about eyes...it's what I like about Garth, too. They look like they are up to something, stirring up some shit somewhere and only they know it. That is fascinating to me.

Now, my inner 16-year-old's passion for HSM2 is not what worries me. What has me wondering about my personal issues today is that a song made me cry. Again. Of course, the usual ones do, anything about Dads usually gets me, since I lost mine when I was 23. And Disney uses a song called "flying" for their YEar of a Million Dreams promo. It is instrumental, it is beautiful, it reduces me to tears in 4 beats or less. Every time a commercial comes on, someone in the house has to say "don't cry mom!"

Now Trace Adkins has decided to make me sob like an idiot. They have been playing this song on the radio called "You're gonna miss this" and the part that makes me lose it? This one:
Five years later there's a plumber workin' on the water heater
Dog's barkin', phone's ringin'
One kid's cryin', one kid's screamin'
She keeps apologizin'
He says "They don't bother me. I've got 2 babies of my own.
One's 36, one's 23.
Huh, it's hard to believe, but ...
You're gonna miss this
You're gonna want this back
You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast
These are some good times
So take a good look around
You may not know it now
But you're gonna miss this"

Ugh. I am tearing up proofreading the post. Seriously, I am a true sap. All I think of is the kids. I call them babies and Gainey will be 5 in June and Johnnie is 3. Hardly babies. Where the hell did the time go?

A reminder of why I work at home.

Every now and then, as I am struggling to hear a doctor over Johnnie having a nervous breakdown because Gainey touched one of his toys, I wonder WTF I was thinking when I decided to work at home.

I know I am nuts, but I really did not think I was certifiable.

Today, though, Momma Nature decided to remind me of the joys of having my office in my house.

It is FREEZING and snowing. I could ice skate on the road today. And did I mention it is FREEZING? Windy weather=wind chills=Holy crap I think I lost a finger walking to the car.

So a big thanks to the weather gods or mother nature or L Ron Hubbard's alien buddies, whoever decided that I needed a lesson in "the grass is always greener" or, in this case, "the ass is always colder on the other side". Because anyone who has to go out in this to get to work (they don't close things here unless there is 5 feet of snow or it is so cold that you turn blue and collapse the minute you open your front door) has my sympathy. And yes, a little bit of mocking too.

Neener, neener.

Now I will cross my fingers that the weather gods will not kick a little karma in my ass by knocking out our power and freezing me to death.

So much for the alternate universe....

Apparently global warming has NOT turned Buffalo into the new warm winter getaway we had hoped.

It is snowing. Lake effect snow. For those of you who are not fortunate enough to enjoy this phenomenon, I will share.

Basically, lake effect snow happens because Canada sends us a buttload of cold air (I know it is just because they love us and want to share with their neighbors!). It comes creeping over lovely Lake Erie and Lake Ontario and picks up water, since the lake has not frozen. It then dumps snow in "bands." It has a particular consistency, something like wet cement. So you need a backhoe to shovel your driveway without having a freakin' coronary. The bands are interesting as well, since you can drive to the grocery store and experience dry roads and sun, regular snow, and then blinding wet cement white outs all on a 10-mile stretch of road.

I live in the boonies. We decided to get rid of our Ford Expedition since the cost of gassing the thing up was quickly approaching the cost of a semester at Harvard. So I bought myself a nice 33-MPG highway Saturn ION. Since we are so rural, we get 33-MPG on a regular basis. Also because we are so rural, everyone else out here has some sort of truck. With 4-wheel drive. So when I choose to venture out with 5 inches of snow on the ground, I have to go slowly or end up spinning like a top, whereas my neighbors are just blowing along the road at 55, passing me.

Now, I really don't mind the passing. They know I cannot go fast and are very nice about it. I move over a little and slow down so they can pass quickly and safely. But to be honest, it is starting to give me a little bit of an inferiority complex.

And normally, I will tell everyone the weather is my fault. I work at home and only have to drive a couple of times a week and then only if I want to. Well, Sunday was pretty decent. Then I had to go pick the kids up from Jerry's. As I walk out the door, it starts to snow. Hard. Snow, rain, hail on and off, all the way into the city and back. I get home, work, take a break to smoke and guess what? Snow stopped.

Monday was pretty decent. I get a call from school, have to pick up Courtney and take her to an appointment in the city. Walk out the door. Here comes the snow. By the time was are heading home, the roads are pretty bad out here. We almost spin out at a light, not too scary since we live in the middle of nowhere and the only thing I may have hit was a broken cornstalk in the fields. Well, Courtney didn't care, was pretty sure we almost died, and spent the rest of the ride home going between panic and yipping at me. Fantastic.

But today's snow is even worse. It is a true lake effect crapfest out there. But you can't blame me today. I am not going anywhere.

Living here is a Catch-22. You can wish for the temperatures to stay decent, but if they do, then the lake stays unfrozen and we get buried. If you don't want snow, then you have to hope for temperatures in the 20's for a while.

I am not a winter fan. I don't ski. I don't go sledding. I don't like to be wet and cold with snot running down my face as I hurtle down a hill to an ending that can only include me writing a co-pay check to an orthopedic surgeon with the only limb that I have not snapped off.

I still cannot remember how I let John, and I think my mom, convince me that we should wait until May to go to Disney this year.

Something is just not right...

it is 61 today in Buffalo.

Have I slipped into an alternate universe?

Are we being teased with the promise of Spring before having 39 feet of snow dropped on us?

Or is this just Mother Nature's way of ensuring that I have a raging sinus headache right up until March?

I fear we may never know.

Nair.

Okay, so I have a bottle of Nair that I use when we vacation because it lasts longer. For you gentlemen who may not know, Nair is a chemical hair remover.

It basically removes it by burning the crap out of your hair follicles. I only use it for vacation because:
1. It smells like it is doing what it IS doing, burning hair. GAG.
2. It also burns your skin, no matter how fast you get it off.

I keep it in the bathroom cabinet downstairs, way in the back. It is some nasty stuff.

So, I take the kids to Jerry's tonight and John goes upstairs to grab something out of our bedroom. As he passes Courtney's door, there is a horrific stench emanating, so he opens the door (his going in her room comes up again, so his reason for doing so is important). He finds..a roll of toilet paper and the bottle of Nair. She must have grabbed it and used it. If you have ever used it, you apply it, wait 5-10 minutes or until you burst into flames, and then wipe it off. THEN you are supposed to rinse the skin well with warm water. I am guessing since she does not have running water in her room, Courtney has skipped this step and is now at her Dad's working on a nice chemical burn.

So I call Jerry I explain the situation to him. He says something to her and she actually says "WHY WAS JOHN IN MY ROOM?" Ummm. Because it smelled like burning animal? She gets on the phone and apologizes. I explain to her that she should not use it and the multitude of reasons why, not the least of which is that it is a pretty rough chemical and that it is MINE, so she should have asked first. She then says "well now that I know it can burn, I won't use it."

Ahhhh. So that fact that it did not belong to you is not the problem here at all. Jerry starts asking her why she didn't ask me first. Of course, we don't have an answer for this.

She then says, "so, is that why my legs burn now?" Cripes. I tell her to get off the phone, go take a shower and not to use soap, just water where she had the Nair, as the soap would irritate it more.

So if I ever mention the locked train case I keep my pretty pricey makeup and extremely expensive perfume in, now you know why. Not only to keep the little ones out, but the big ones too. I swear, if I have not been committed by the time Gainey turns 18, someone needs to call the Vatican. Because it will be a friggin miracle.

Selling a 3-year-old on Ebay?

So, Johnnie has lost his mind. Not sure exactly what happened, but the kid is going crazy. Maybe cabin fever, maybe psychosis. We still are not quite sure.

He has been into everything and stubborn as a mule since the new year began. Frankly, I am tired. It is days like this that make me question the sanity of starting all over again when Court and Tom were 11 and 9. WTF was I thinking?

Of course, then he runs out to my desk while I work, turn my chair and throws his arms around me. "I ludge you Mommy!!!"

For anyone reading this who does not have kids and wonders how people who do manage to get through a day without killing someone?? That's how. Kids have a radar or something built in. After they spray your living room with Hershey's syrup, their little detector goes off "DANGER WILL ROBINSON!!!" and they then retreat, being so loveable you could hurl.

They do lose that as teens. Court and Tom are stalking me for a ride to their Dad's right now. If I say "hang on!" in an irritated voice, all I get is an eye roll and a "FINE!" Yep. All my fault your Dad cannot pick you up because he is carless.

Time to head out into the cold (it is actually a balmy 34 here, warmer than the last couple days) and make the trek to the city to drop them off. I promise, I'll slow down. Maybe even stop.

My commercial vent...

Okay, the animals are caged for the night, so I can actually think straight.

I am going to vent in this post. Mainly because my husband is sick of hearing it. Lucky you.

There is a commercial floating around right now, probably on Discovery Channel or Court TV, since that is all I usually watch at 3 a.m. It is for a cutter, one of those long things with the ruler and the little blade that slides, the kind used mainly for scrapbooking. This particular one has attempted to stand out by offering a light so you can see where the line is to cut.

Great, sounds like a great product, no venting there. What bugs the CRAP outta me about this commercial is that in the beginning, the announcer says something about how hard it is to cut a straight line with scissors.

I agree, Mr. Announcer, it is a bitch. My issue? The visual. Someone is cutting apart wallet sized photos with scissors. They cut SO badly. Honestly, I am one of the worst cutters I know. Never ever ever straight. But even I can cut pictures apart without beheading the people in the picture. Gainey (my 4-year-old) could do a better job than whatever nut they hired for the scene.

So, Light Cutter Company: You have a nice product. I might have bought one. Until you insulted my intelligence with your exaggerations of scissor-cutting problems.

This is not going to go well, methinks.

Well, I WAS going to post a witty, insightful first post on here.

Note: WAS.

My freshly turned 13 year old is asking for it and I have a 4 year old who wants me to watch her play Leapster for hours on end, and a 3-year-old who has completely lost his mind today. So far he has emptied all his drawers, stuffed all the tiles from my perpetual calendar into a heating vent, and is now hanging off my chair yelling at me.

I am sure my 15-year-old would be happy to push me over the edge, but she stayed after school.

So, this is all you get for today. Since I am the only one who reads this right now....I wager the emotional impact will be minimal.

So carry on!