And somebody blew up my Porsche!

Remember the movie Another 48 hours? Where Reggie Hammond says “All right, knock this shit off! I HAVE BEEN HAVING A VERY BAD DAY! I just got out of jail this morning! Already I’ve been shot at, I was on a bus that flipped over seventeen times, bitch tried to stab me in the back room, and somebody blew up my Porsche! I am in a BAD goddamn mood! Now I usually don’t step in on things like this, but this man Jack Cates is gonna help me straighten out the rest of my day! So I suggest you all back up, and let us go about our business!” That was Steve this morning.

On Saturday he sparred with the fricken Yoda of karate. And um, well, the thing you should know about Yoda, that I told him before we even went into class, is that if Yoda opens his eyes real wide and crouches down? Run away! But what does my brain damaged darling do? He makes a loud ki ai and scores a point on Yoda. Yoda answers with a mighty takedown. Sigh. And when Yoda opened his eyes wide and crouched? Steve backfisted him in the head. To which Yoda promptly answered with a kick to the ribs so hard son #1 heard it from outside the room. I shake my head at him. Me? When I sparred with Yoda? I was scared to hit him. He taunted “Hit me! Hit me!” So I did. He answered with a backfist to my head. I think I got whiplash. And when he crouched down? I took one look at that and backed the hell up. When the third degree black belts say “If he crouches down, run away!” You heed their warnings!

So anyway, due to his possibly severely damaged rib cage, Steve got up on the wrong side of the bed. I’m pretty sure he had 666 on his scalp. Hoooo boy. He was grouchy. And it got worse from there. The children were fighting, there were multiple cooking mishaps, but what sent him over the edge? The new espresso machine exploded. Lemme tell ya’, he really needed that coffee this morning!

So as we’re walking out the door to the bus stop, with Steve behind me closing the door to leave to work, I say “Don’t lock the door, I don’t know where my keys are right now.” 15 minutes later when I come back from the bus stop? The door is locked. That’s right, within 5 seconds of me saying don’t lock the door, he locked the door. He will claim he was distracted by his broken espresso machine, but really, I think he took too many backfists to the head from Yoda this weekend. So imagine how unhappy the already unhappy was when he had to drive back home to let me in? You think? No worse. He was all glary at ME. The nerve.

It doesn’t sound like his day at work went any better. I swear it will be a miracle if he makes it home in one piece. He should have taken 4 Advils and gone back to bed before someone blew up his Porsche.

 

The Oracle of Starbucks

I love Ree. She never fails to crack me up. Thus, when I found the Oracle of Starbucks on her blog, I had to try it. This is what it said to me:

THE ORACLE OF STARBUCKS

The all-knowing Oracle of Starbucks Behold the Oracle’s wisdom: Personality type: Asshat You carry around philosophy books you haven’t read and wear trendy wire-rimmed glasses even though you have perfect vision. You’ve probably added an accent to your name or changed the pronunciation to seem sophisticated. You hang out in coffee shops because you don’t have a job because you got your degree in French Poetry. People who drink tall nonfat bone dry cappuccino are notorious for spouting off angry, liberal opinions about issues they don’t understand. Also drinks: Any drink with a foreign name Can also be found at: The other, locally owned coffee shop you claim to like better

You go get insulted. Go ahead. I’ll wait.

 

Romancing the espresso maker….

Oy! You know that sequestering in a hotel for four days stuff Steve has to do all the time? Guess what? He’s sequestered in a hotel for four days again. Didn’t we just do this, like, 2 weeks ago? Let’s hope the plumbing doesn’t find out until he’s back. The sink looks like it knows though and I thought I heard the toilet telling the shower he’s gone.

Yesterday I called son #2’s doctor in desperation. He had stopped eating, drinking and talking. I was also out of narcotics. I’m still dosing him every 2-4 hours around the clock and he’s been in a ton of pain. I come to find out from the nurse that he was on the “minimum” amount of pain meds. It’s a shame it’s not possible to reach through the phone and choke people. Because that’s what I wanted to do. So they increased his meds by 75% and whaddya know? This morning he is talking, he even ate a little and drank something. He also appears to have come down with a cold or something. Sigh.

I am paying the babysitter’s way through college. I’ve discovered that once both kids are in elementary school full time, you need one chauffeur per child. Because come four o’clock, one’s got soccer here, the other has baseball there. One’s got karate here and the other has scouts there. ACTIVITES ARE ALWAYS AT THE SAME TIME AT OPPOSITE ENDS OF TOWN. That’s the law. If you have kids, you know what I’m talking about. With Steve gone and son #2 house bound, I think I might ask the babysitter to just move in. lol.

I’m in desperate need of coffee. I haven’t made friends with the new espresso maker still. Sure, we’re acquaintances, but we don’t know each other well enough to make sweet, beautiful brew together. I’ve been staring at an empty coffee cup for half an hour. I want to get up and talk to the espresso maker, but I’m afraid of rejection………… Ok, I’ve worked up the courage. I’m going to go flirt with the espresso maker. Otherwise I’m going to slump over and slip into a coma. Wish me luck!

 

It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood…

Steve and the espresso maker have made up. Ergo, I have coffee, the sun is shining and all is right with the world again…… I’m headed to the gym, but only to ride the bike, no weights, eliptical or running, I promise. I need endorphins. You can feel my moods dipping low without the gym, can’t you? Therefore you must realize, I MUST HAVE MY WORKOUTS.

Baseball is going gangbusters. My team knows what they’re doing and they look good out there. I’m very happy with the way the season is going and every time we play another team, that Dad that gave me a hard time in the beginning of the season for being a woman coach has to eat a slice of humble pie. Tee hee.

I have to say, when the weather is clear here, there is nothing in the world like it. It is so take-your-breath-away beautiful. You can see the snow capped mountains and the air is so fresh here. It is worth every single gray winter day. Seattle is one of the best kept secrets in the world….

I’ve finished my coffee and I’m off to the gym to get high. I mean, to get my endorphins on. lol. Hope your day is sunny too……

 

That baby stole my dingo!

Ok, no dingo stole my baby or vice versa. But damned if son #2 didn’t run up and steal my melted chocolate chips and raisins. Then he ran with it, snarfed it down and grinned at me with brown, chocolaty teeth. When he gave it back it was empty. That’s about how the whole day has gone.

No coffee today because Steve broke up with espresso maker. The appliances and electronics get really ticked off when he leaves them for a new, shiny gadget. Now the espresso maker refuses to produce anything coffee-like. Yesterday it made brown water that tasted like ass. If the espresso maker could walk, I’d be suspicious it had been in the bathroom.

Son #1’s teacher stopped me in the halls today. I was already wanting to send him off to military boarding school after this morning and apparently, so is she. Sigh. We had to have the “you really might want to think about those ADHD drugs” conversation again for, like, the thousandth time. I want to scream “I KNOW! I KNOW! YOU TRY LIVING WITH HIM!” And yet I continue to fight against the drugs even knowing that in all likelihood, it would make my life a LOT easier. Sigh.

The school nurse called me twice and keeps insisting that son #1’s hip should be healed, since it’s been 3 months. I had to say multiple times, THE DOCTOR SAID NO RUNNING, NO STEPS, NO PE, NO SPORTS UNTIL WE SAW HIM AGAIN. And she kept saying “But for how long? It MUST be healed by now.” GAAHHH!! I just told you! SIX WEEKS! “But that’s three months.”she’d say. Like the answer is somehow different because she’s said it’s been three months. I’m not answering the phone anymore. People make me crabby.

Pain is making me crabby too and I haven’t slept in 3 days. I toss and turn all night and my ribs hurt. I went for the bone scan yesterday and got all radioactive. Then they put me on a table and into a machine. When she lowered the giant plate containing the geiger counter to within a half inch of my nose I said “Uh, they give me ativan for MRI’s! This thing is REALLY close to my face! I need AIR!” Of course, obviously I had air but still. I had to close my eyes and try not think about it. Freaking out in front of son #2 would be bad. So I tried to pretend my blood pressure hadn’t shot up and I wasn’t imagining being crushed by a giant geiger counter. And I knew it was only in my head that the air around me was all hot and I was suffocating. But still. I coulda used the ativan. No one mentioned that was going to be like an MRI.

 I don’t think I mentioned that several months ago son #2 developed a complex verbal tic. We made the rounds with speech therapists, pediatricians and the neurologist. We’re in “watch” mode. I work in his classroom and there is a child in there with Tourette’s syndrome. There is also another child in the class that has recently developed a verbal tic and it drives me crazy. Two days ago son #2 came home with that same tic. It sounds like a cross between a pig grunting and a dog growling. It makes my skin crawl. My first thought was “No. EFFIN. WAY.” We were told not to point out the other tic, but there is NO WAY I can live with this sound.  After about the tenth time he did it, I said “I know <other child> makes that sound, but I do not want you making that sound. It will become a habit.” (I worried it might already be too late.) Son #2 then pointed out that the child with Tourette’s makes a sound and then stretches his neck but the one making the pig sound just made the sound. I thought it was a very astute observation. He’s done it a few times since we talked, but I keep reminding him. This morning I was teaching art in the classroom and saw that son #2 is sitting NEXT to the child with the pig sound tic so that’s probably why he picked it up. I told the teacher he had picked it up and she said she would move him starting tomorrow. Because I need more to worry about like I need a hole in the head. So let’s hope the grunting sound will stop. Because otherwise I’m going to have to go back to the neurologist and have him evaluated. And I might start screaming and never stop.

So that’s been my day. I got my chocolate swiped, no coffee, and the kids are killing me. And the fact that other human beings are alive today annoys me. Seriously. Don’t even look at me. You’ll piss me off. I need coffee.

 

Ah HA. Mr. Funnypants is back…

I awoke to this:

In case you’re having trouble reading the note accompanying my coffee this morning, it says: Quick! Drink this before you interract with people!

Ah HA. I KNOW WHERE YOU SLEEP, FUNNYPANTS!!!!!

 

Catagapors and Coffee

I was promised coffee this morning. Not blaming anyone, not naming names, just saying…didn’t get any coffee, that’s all. And I am TIRED. No, really tired. I tried licking the espresso machine but nothing happened. I inhaled deeply from the coffee bean bag. Nothing happened. I cried a little and then went and found some No-Doz. Does No-Doz expire? Because an hour later I found myself teaching art and using the word “Catagapor”- don’t ask. Suffice it to say kindergartners think that word is hilarious.

I came home and tried a short nap. I woke up and found thinking hard. Walking was hard too. I ran into the wall. I picked up son #1 from school and decided this couldn’t go on. I drove through Starbucks and am one nonfat dry cappuccino heavier. With change I scraped out of the ash tray. Because I forgot my purse. I have baseball to coach in a hour. I don’t feel awaker. Or smarter. Or more coordinated. I’m afraid I may be using catagapor again and running into things. Sigh.

 

The smartass returns…

Sigh. I’d be better off drinking rotten coffee. I’m sure of it…..