A Solid B.

You know what sucks when you’re sick?

Children.

I used to never get sick. Just like I used to never lose my cell phone or find random slobbery food items on my shoulder. These things seem to have come with motherhood. And while I don’t necessarily think of myself as a competitive person, I really would like to know if I’m coping well or not. 

I miss that part of working in an office — having the luxury of looking around to see how you’re doing compared to your peers. Or getting an annual review. Your boss could lay it all out for you. Here, it’s all guesswork. I don’t enjoy guesswork. I would LOVE to know — like really know — how other mothers cope in the house alone with a cold, a cranky baby who also has a cold, and an almost-four-year-old who won’t stop touching you, talking to you, and asking you to repeat what you just said because your head is clogged and you’re losing your voice and apparently he can’t understand what you’re saying.

I don’t know about my peers, but it makes me feel CRAZY. I send insane-sounding texts to the people who love me enough to overlook my insane-sounding texts. Like Husband. He comes home at night and pretends like he never read the texts that say things like “I’VE HAD IT” or, “I QUIT” or, “I am about to overmedicate myself on cold medicine and take them to the mall because I don’t know how else I am going to make it through this f*#king day.”

When he gets home, he kisses me hello and asks about my day as though he never received the multiple snippets of crazy throughout the day. 

That’s really nice of him.

Speaking of crazy … here’s what I didn’t blog about yesterday. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I couldn’t use the computer. My day started with this:


Our laptop, may it rest in peace, with the striped screen of death. We can’t afford a new one … I’m currently using my sweet mother-in-law’s laptop that she’s lending to us for a few days. I was hoping to attend a baby shower in Nashville in two weeks, but it looks like we’ll be spending that money that we never really had and still don’t have, on a new computer instead. I told Husband we have to wait until after September 4 because that’s when TWO turns one and we can stop spending $40 a week on formula.

In an effort to speed up the day, I made a brownie concoction that no one ate, and I can’t blame them because it was pretty disgusting … which brings me to the next topic.


I have a stained-glass window propped up behind the stove. I’ve had it for a long time, my parents gave it to me and I really love it. I know the kitchen is a weird location, but I honestly have no idea where else to put it:


After lunch, I was bumbling around in a fog when this conversation popped up:

ONE: Mommy, is that a penis?

Me: What?

ONE: A penis.

Me: Where?

ONE: Up there. Above the oven.

Me: No! 

ONE: It sure looks like a penis.

Me: That’s a flower. Or some kind of design. NOT a penis … we wouldn’t put a picture of a private part in the kitchen, ONE. Private parts are private.

ONE: Well … it sure looks like a penis.

Later, my parents stopped by to pick up ONE for an overnight stay which was so nice. My mother left me with this:


An infrared heat lamp. It’s supposed to kill bacteria. It’s not every day you encounter one of these, and it was an oddly appropriate conclusion to my day.

Now back to my original question: how well am I coping in comparison to my peers? Our laptop is broken, I’ve just been informed that our cell phones have been cut off, the blinds fell down in TWO’s room – again – so I threw them in the trash can, and I am feeling generally miserable. But my children are clothed, their noses are wiped, I have on a supportive bra, and we have food in the house.

I give myself a solid B.


2 thoughts on “A Solid B.

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