I want and need out of life aside from being a mom and how I can make that happen while paying a daycare bill that exceeds my mortage payment. Our daughter has a slight cold and even the ex admitted that perhaps that was part of the problem.
This morning I took a deep breath and informed him that he is not to threaten my time with the children in response to misbehavior with him, that he'll need to find another way to deal with it and if I ever did such a thing ("You kids better knock it off or you're not going to Daddy's!") he'd probably haul me back into court, and that I was very disappointed with how he chose to handle this. On the up side: we went to the girls' tea, and my daughter won the hat decorating contest, which put her over the moon. Monday morning is Back To School, and Monday morning is often also Battle of the Cranky Tired Ones. Tonight's episode included a contestant who was a mother to three and stick skinny (a major achievement in my book). However, lightweight that I am, it seemed somehow wrong to try to sit down and do my reading for my church study group after an evening fraternizing with Mike (purveyor of fine hard lemonades; in this case, cranberry flavor).
Upon entering the bathroom Waldo was nowhere to be seen, even when I did an inspection of the shower stall. A quick mental calculation assured me that there was no way I was going to be otherwise confronted with him or have to touch him or anything, so I went about my business.
Do you have any idea how hard it is to shave your legs, wash, and condition your hair with an industrial sized bottle of Pantene clutched in one hand, ready to strike? Waldo is still at large, and as my bathroom is connected to my bedroom and I can no longer find him in the bathroom, I'm just a tiny bit worried that he may kill me in my sleep. I mean, leave it to me to flipping save all of humankind and not even notice (or get credit). 2) Woke up with a migraine, took my meds, asked the kids to play quietly, went back to bed for half an hour.
3) Got up to what can only be described as a spectacular explosion of the arts-n-crafts chest all over the kitchen. 4) I am brooding over a really bad decision I made a year ago today that came back to bite me several times, hard; and it might be cathartic to write about it, but as there is no spin I could put on said decision that wouldn't make me look like a total asshat (I'm stealing the word, but giving credit where it's due) I'm just gonna shut up and get back to wallowing.

Editing to add: If I fill in "Miriam" instead of "Mir" I'll be creating some super-weapon in August of 2007.
Having missed this morning's therapy session, I give you (for those who asked, and for those who didn't, too bad) the event from May 20, 2003 that renders me a complete asshat: Just a few months post-separation, I had my first date in about ten years. I don't know if my missing my appointment falls under the "there are no accidents" category or the "sometimes a cigar is just a cigar" category. It must be my professional girlfriend status that has me beating away the men with a stick.
I strive to improve my living conditions by hoarding gold, food, and sometimes keys and potions. So we returned home and I tried to preserve this feeling the way that any good mom does; I decided we need to Make Goodies. After some discussion and digging in the pantry, we decided to try the recipe on the back of the Golden Grahams cereal box for s'mores bars.
But all was forgiven about one hour and seventeen skirmishes later, when--being the fantabulous mom that I am--I parked the kids in front of A Bug's Life with two s'mores squares. What I don't get is how the very same creature who fought sleep tooth and nail can succumb to it so completely that they will continue to be asleep even once they are technically awake. I came upstairs tonight expecting to spend 60 seconds doing my "rounds" and then come climb into my own bed.
Well here's my special circumstance: I don't have a job, and child support might be just enough to scrape by on with no daycare, and so I have elected to stay home with my children this summer.
So, I am perfectly happy to settle this situation with a transfer of funds to my friend Heather, who is in fact gainfully employed and has also registered her kids in your camp program. Failure to comply with my request will result in my going Hulk on you, so please don't jerk me around for what is a tiny amount of money for you but an entire month's groceries for me, mkay? 3) That weird little dancing bald guy in the commercials for Six Flags who shows up in a bus and jitterbugs around until everyone joins him for a romp at the amusement park. 11) "Gingy" from the Walmart commercials (though he was quite good in Shrek 2, I'll admit).

14) The possibility that I may need to stab my son with his Epi-Pen to save his life someday.
22) The guy at the diner around the corner who fawns all over my daughter and tells me how beautiful she is when we eat there.
After sorting through approximately 6,591 family photos, I cut out this one that I didn't completely hate. Other Woman *jolted by my screaming, and perhaps frightened by my little victory dance*: You're joking, right?
Today, I descended into the depths of compound carnal sinning, and I did it with my kids in tow.
Often on Tuesdays we have a doctor's appointment or two in the afternoon, and then some time to kill before I drop the kids with the ex for their dinner night. I just love that stores like Priceless Kids remove brand tags from things that any red-blooded American mother can identify at ten paces.
After a while, I paid for my purchases and peeled the kids away from the movie, and we headed on to stop two: Trader Joe's. I love adventure, fighting, and particularly winning - especially when there's a prize at stake. Shrek 2 gets a big thumbs-up from me, although I would like to watch it again without hearing "What's funny, Mama? I'm not really planning to go work at a carnival any time soon, so I pick the obscure language.
Now I have big blue blobs of toothpaste on the counter overlaid with a fine mist of light blue toothpaste-and-spittle spatter.

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