Hazard pay

I’m pooped. No I haven’t had too much fibre (although the way I’ve been crop dusting all day would indicate this), I’m just really tired, like someone took my body for a joy ride and put it away before I noticed. (And no it wasn’t Scott, you perverts.) Although I’m sure Scott wishes he had, sadly he’s working graveyards this week so the only man sleeping next to me is seven and drooling on his dads pillow. He’s super cute especially now that he’s asleep and not moving and talking a mile a minute. Logan got a hair cut the other day and looks presentable again. He has very thick hair and I always know it’s time for a haircut when it starts to look like he’s wearing a hair helmet on his head. He got it cut pretty short and was all happy about the spikey hair; apparently “it looks fancy”. He seems to have an obsession about looking fancy these days although I’m not sure how fancy one can look prancing around in tighty-whitey underpants.

Do you ever notice how quickly kids grow and change? Meghan has suddenly turned from my sweet, sensitive perfect daughter to a raging, argumentative ball of hormones that vaguely resembles her, it’s so fun to talk to her on the phone these days “Hi, yeah, no, bye”, she’s just so expressive. Although she does seem to be communicating with barking seals lately. With her allergies acting up she sounds like a seasoned smoker, it’s a delightful sound, almost as fun for me as somebody chewing with their mouth open. It’s no wonder I’m heavily medicated, between puberty and allergy season one of us may not survive. I should definitely be getting hazard pay.

I cannot believe that my baby boy Finnegan will be two next month, it just doesn’t seem possible. It’s strange, in one way it feels like it’s been forever and in another it feels like I was just pregnant. Maybe it’s because I still look pregnant or that my psyche has fragmented and lost large pieces of time. I’m pretty sure they call that motherhood. Finnegan’s communication skills are improving rapidly, I can now understand about every fourth word that comes out of his mouth which is more than I can say about half the people I know! (It’s a joke, geesh, I didn’t mean YOU, I meant everyone else but you...)

Speaking of communication, at work I am currently preparing for an interview I may or may not be invited to; does that not strike you as completely insane? I’ve created a spreadsheet of possible behavioural interview questions and examples I have for each, now I have to study them. My luck none of the questions asked in the interview will be even remotely similar to those I’ve studied! Anyway, I believe I will be interviewed but where and when are unknown and a bit stressful. Pfft, I laugh in the face of stress (and maybe shed an extra thirty pounds of hair!)

Not that shedding would make much difference to me, I’m like a chia pet on crack; the hair just keeps on growing and growing and growing. Every time I run my hand through my hair my hand comes away with large chunks of hair. For the average person this would be devastating and bald spots would be a definite. For me you can’t even notice, except the giant piles of hair everywhere. In my bathroom I have giant hair bunnies where many small creatures could happily make their home. Finnegan likes to find my hair; the kid has a really gross hair fetish. He takes a long piece of hair and runs it through his mouth like dental floss. That kid has some serious issues. He must get them from Scott.

Speaking of Scott, do any of you ever wonder how man and woman can live together without killing each other? Men are so annoying, they don’t truly appreciate the value of folding laundry, or wiping the counters clean, or making their significant others feel sexy, loved and appreciated. Men think if they take them for a joy ride they’ve done their job! Well boys I hate to tell you but foreplay for the middle aged woman includes housework, spontaneous flowers, discussions and a deep seated appreciation for the absolute rulers of their universe! Don’t get me wrong Scott is a great guy, smart, sensitive, funny, he cooks and is a great dad. Ask him to clean up or plan a romantic evening and I may as well have asked him to fly. I love you honey but seriously I could use some good romancing and some folded laundry!

Sometimes I think maybe my expectations are too high and then I remember, hey wait a minute I can do them why can’t everyone else!

So that’s a day in the life of, I know, boring and a little disturbing but aren’t you glad you have validation that someone is at least as messed up as you?