Bad Mood DudePlan: Get up early, gather paperwork for underwriter, and fax it in.
Reality: Manage to locate retirement account statement, but only because it came in yesterday’s mail. Fail to locate a single bank statement less than 5 months old. Over the space of twenty minutes, try a succession of three different fax numbers for the lender. Finally get the traditinoal fax number to accept my paltry offering. Curse you, eFax, curse you.
Plan: Have privacy to call mediator before eye doctor appointment.
Reality: Spend morning yelling at children to get out of my chair, stop putting their fingers and toes inside the DVD/VCR player that has to go back to the repair shop again, and letting husband interrupt for just one more thing and then he’ll be out of my hair, as he is leaving to run errands now that the babysitter is here. Settle back into loan/mediator routine. Field call from husband who has run out of gas and now needs to be rescued.
Plan: Grab jerrycan of gas from shed and drive to meet husband.
Reality: Negotiate kisses from the brood, drive car around to back gate, open shed, stare into darkness. Remove wheelbarrow. Remove spreader. Walk in and wheel huge tool caddy-thingy out as well. Peer into darkness. Wave away cobwebs. Reach in and around lawnmower, grab jerrycan, haul it out, and kick shed door shut. Leave all equipment out on the lawn. Toss jerrycan into trunk. Drive until husband is spotted at side of road. Screech to a halt. Pop trunk. Wait until it bangs shut again. Peel out.
Plan: Pop into Eye doctor’s for routine annual checkup.
Reality: Leave $400 lighter, after replacing lost prescrition sunglasses and getting new lenses for current frames.
Plan: Arrive at office and call mediator to try to understand spousal support and child support scenarios.
Reality: Learn that none of the assumptions that underpin the calculations apply to us. Listen in stunned silence. Weep.
Plan: Spend rest of afternoon doing what I am paid to do.
Reality: Sit in stunned silence. Weep.
Plan: Blog. Repeat as necessary.
Reality: Sit in stunned silence. Weep.
I write. A lot.
I also design stuff and collect funny things kids say. Oh, and please buy my book. It's very funny.
I also review books and keep track of them in The Mommy Blog Amazon Book Store.
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My son was in the same room as me when I was getting dressed one day. I scratched the top of my left breast a little and he said, “Mommy, you are touching your —-!”
I said to him, “I just have an itch,” to which he responded, “That’s *your* excuse!”
Jet, 4
Jax: Mommy, here’s a little piece of toilet paper to wipe the tip.
Mommy: The tip of what?
Jax: Your penis.
Jax, 3
After being told to go outside and pick up the dog poop, he goes outside, whines and complains. He comes back in and says, “Mom, I think the dog over-pooped.”
Luke, 8
When I woke up one morning with a sore throat, raspy voice, and fever, my three-year-old, Emilie, asked me what was wrong. I said, “Mama has a cold…” and she felt my cheek for a minute before saying, “No. You has a hot!”
Emilie, 3
Do you know how I memorized 2 x 11? I have this fake pencil in my brain, and it writes down the multiplication!!
Hugo, 6
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07.20.04 at 01:09 PM |
Big Friggin’ Sigh… for both of us… Hang in there Minds!
07.20.04 at 01:22 PM |
A moment of silence while you weep. So sorry this is happening. Hang in there.
07.20.04 at 01:23 PM |
Well, it sucks, dearest. Weep all you want to. It needs to be done sometimes. Keep blogging.
07.20.04 at 01:37 PM |
I am sending you a big {hug} and a bigger box of kleenex. Keep drinking water!
07.20.04 at 01:37 PM |
*hugs* I’ll weep with you hun. I hope it gets better.
07.20.04 at 02:36 PM |
I am so sorry, Mindy. One of my main rules is that no one cries alone. I’m here for you, sweetie.
07.20.04 at 02:41 PM |
I’m so sorry, hon. If there’s anything I can do, please let me know. (Like drive over with more M&Ms;...?)
07.20.04 at 03:40 PM |
<<Rushing over to provide shoulder for tears.
Hang in there dear.
07.20.04 at 05:02 PM |
:( I’m so sorry Mindy. *hugs*
07.20.04 at 05:42 PM |
Here is yet another shoulder for you to weep upon. At least you have an abundance of shoulders, you know? You should start picturing people in their underwear more often.
07.20.04 at 06:08 PM |
LOL Jenny, I love the sentiment, but where in blue blazes did the underwear thing come from??
Ahahahahahah I like it anyway.
07.20.04 at 06:43 PM |
Glad you got all the friends ^^^^^ to help you though.
07.20.04 at 10:34 PM |
If it cheers you up any… I lost MY job yesterday (no, not because of my cracking up at your previous post) Boss decided to phase out my position altogether to save money since it’s going private and they are going to be kissing the givernment subsidy bye bye.
Today is my last day. Boy, they don’t waste any time do they?
This
sucks,is majorly fucked, blows.You, my darling Mindy, do not cry alone. Believe me. I’m balling right along with ya. Anybody got a bucket?
07.20.04 at 11:15 PM |
Um, I’m so wigged out, I obviously cannot spell today. Forgive me.
I meant to say GOVERNMENT.
It still blows though.
07.20.04 at 11:31 PM |
*curled in fetal position, stunned and pissed pissed, weeping*
07.21.04 at 03:25 AM |
First, you cry...then....REVENGE!
No, really, my heart aches for you.
and you too Cyn- (have you heard about her MIL?)
07.21.04 at 05:00 AM |
So sorry you are going through all this. :(
((hugs)) and chocolate!
07.21.04 at 07:11 AM |
Oh damn. I’m assuming that not meeting the assumption necessary for the calculations is a really, really bad thing? I’m so sorry. But as the other have said, no crying alone; borrow a shoulder whenever you need to; and imagine Genuine in his undies.
07.21.04 at 09:39 AM |
Who’s jerry and why did you steal his can?
07.21.04 at 10:00 AM |
I think a bubble bath, candles and a glass of red are all in order… You know I love ya, yeah?