Naughty, Naughty

So I’ve been reading about “Naughty Spots” and “Naughty Stools” and it all sounds…a little…wrong to me. My mind is incessantly in the gutter, and the word “naughty” just reminds me of a HORRIBLE John Parr song from the eighties. My problem with the whole concept of the time-out place is that our house is small, and filled with miscellaneous junk in every corner. There is no area away from toys, or potential toys (Mommy’s old history reports from Jr. High, anyone? She likes the sound of pages ripping). I don’t know whether I will buy an actual time-out-type mat or not. But I am determined to design a place that is bereft of any kind of FUN. The twisted wheels in my head are turning, and lubricated (another naughty word) by vanilla vodka. Insert maniacal laugh here…

A Pox in my House—Part Deux

My husband was told at his check-up the other day that his smallpox vaccination was no longer contagious. Yet, as fate would have it, I have developed several strange bumps on my back. When I felt the first bump, I simply thought I had a pimple in an odd place. Now, there are several of them, and they are red and itchy to the point of distraction. I’ve washed our sheets in very hot water (yet again), and now I am separating MY clothes from my daughter’s, just in case. I’m really hoping that I had a localized allergic reaction to something else. It’s a distinct possibility, given my many odd allergies. But hives would probably be more widespread, and the persistence, pain, and itchiness of these bumps makes me suspect that I may have been inadvertently inoculated. I know I was only five when I had chickenpox, but if I remember correctly, it was a similar (and exceedingly annoying) sensation. Guess I’ll be making a call to the ever-faithful treatment facility tomorrow, to see if there is anything I can do to relieve my symptoms (other than gnash my teeth), or prevent further contagion to my daughter. Ah, the JOYS of military life…

More…coffee…NOW

My husband took a six o’clock flight to California this morning. We were due to pick our neighbor-friends up at 4:30, since Jerry’s co-worker lives about eight doors down and he was also assigned the same flight. Jerry and I woke up at four, and he took a shower while I washed my face and got dressed. While I went upstairs to assemble a sippy cup, Jerry woke the baby and got her dressed. It was not until I got her home from the airport that I realized he’d put her left shoe on her right foot, and her right shoe on her left foot. And we let him drive to the airport, Brittany!!! Glad I’m not the only one whose brain function is compromised by waking up before 5 AM…

Golden Moments

No matter how bad your day seems, when your child decides to put on her snow boots and pee in a laundry basket, it’s time to laugh.

Procrastination

Procrastination is a wonderful word. My brain sings it to the tune of Rod Stewart’s “Infatuation.” This simple mental exercise, in my opinion, makes the word roughly ten times better. Violet is watching Toy Story and playing with the Sesame Street Easter pals that her aunt brought her yesterday. The cats are meandering about, and thankfully, Nermal is not repeating yesterday’s performance of yacking on the stairs. There is a mess in my kitchen, and I’m trying my best to ignore it. There will be time to catch up later, and hopefully, a little time for me to sleep. I was awake from three to five this morning, largely due to the large amounts of orange juice and vanilla vodka I consumed over a period of about six hours yesterday. I’m quite surprised that I’m not severely hung over this morning, though I seem to have misplaced a few trillion brain cells. Oh well. It appears my daughter has been rolling around on the couch: her hair resembles the inside of a plasma lamp at the moment. It’s supposed to be a lovely day today, so as soon as it warms up a bit, she and I are going to the playground. Right now, I will sit a bit longer and stare aimlessly at the wall, lamenting the fact that my husband didn’t leave me enough coffee this morning. If I had a little more motivation, and a few of those brain cells back, maybe I’d just get off my ass and make some more…

Head, Shoulders, Ernies, and Toes

I keep trying to teach my daughter where her elbows are. But she insists on calling them Elmos, and then she just gets confused…

You Learn Something New, Every Day

Apparently, green and blue crayons taste better than the red and purple variety. Hmph. Must keep this information in mind when I make my next casserole…