I am having a bad parenting day.

... I'm not sure about this.

Day three of job search, have landed (crappy) job! 
Taking said crappy job (which pays more than $0, so I can stick it in the "win" column for now) while looking for better job.
Have to wear a little black bow tie.

Accepted to TWU, now applying to their nursing program.  Also to a community college nursing program.
Have much paperwork to wrangle to get those squared away.  I have seven (!?!) college transcripts to collect.
Taking texas government class.  Paying $870 to do so.  Is suck.
Completed crazy summer semester of 11 credits worth of prereqs.  Phew.

Conchobhar demands privacy now when toileting.  I approve.  First attempts at self wipage are epic fail, though.
Rowan likes to fling himself off of high surfaces while giggling.  This is scary.

Joined gym for $12 a month.  Sweet!
On week two of couch to 5k.  Going much better here where everything is flat and paved.  Also helps that it's been more than 3 weeks since I last birthed a child.

So, my grandmother is going through a lot lately, many health problems, she's a bit crazy to begin with, she's having chemotherapy, etc. etc.  She also believes in every alternative therapy there is or ever was- she lacks the ability to think critically about things like that.

So, while she's sitting in her car at the grocery store, crying, a "psychic" comes up to her because she  felt her "distress" and offers to give her a "reading" for fifty dollars. (done with scare quotes now).  My grandmother pays her by check, comes home, tells the family about it all excitedly, is convinced by my parents and her doctor to cancel the check. (this all happened just before I came down here).

Evidently Ms. Frances Victoria cashed my grandmother's check at some check-cashing store, which since the check was denied is now charging our lovely psychic reader $30 (and making her give the 50 back, I assume).   She called and left a long, rambling message on our answering machine about how the bad check was "not nice", and that my grandmother better call her back or she would "put a lot of darkness and evil" on her.

Grandma just left for Florida, won't be back for two weeks, so this little gem of a situation is all mine.

What should I do?

I will NOT get mastitis while in Texas with out of state insurance.

I will not.

The end.

As I'm rumaging around the cabinets looking for stuff today, I hear a deep and dramatic voice behind me (well, as deep as a two year old can manage) saying slowly:   "Eh-heh-heh-heh.    Now you can see.....this is the hour of the chicken!"

You'd think that moving back in with your parents would feel like a reassuring but slightly demoralizing step backwards, instead of an exciting and scary leap forwards.

I'm not sure if this is due to the ridiculous speed of this undertaking, or the strange excitement of putting myself first instead of coming in a distant fourth.

Conchobhar just pissed in his dump truck, and then dumped it out on the floor.....

Conchobhar decided that he needed to dump salt (well, a spice blend) onto Rowan's head.  And eyeballs.

Eyeballs were carefully seasoned with such tasty ingredients as: black pepper, lemon peel, citric acid, garlic, onion, ginger, white pepper, and cayenne red pepper.

As I was standing in the shower with a full clothed Rowan trying to rinse all this out of his eyes, I had the oddly intrusive thought that he smelled just DELICIOUS.  


Also, Con just told me that it is "time to be dangerous!"

I was going to write sort of a philosophical post about where I am in my life right now, but instead what I have to say right in this moment is this:


WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!sky!

I made a cake for dinner.

That is all.

As I'm sitting at the computer screwing around, Con comes over.

"Dose are yucky beans!"
".....what beans?"
"Yucky!"
".....     Where are the beans?"
"I dumped em!"
Hmmm, slightly confused now, I don't think we have any beans out anywhere.  "Conchobhar, can you show me where the beans are?"

We head into the kitchen where I see a pile of giant gelcap pills.

"Yucky beans!"


Note to self: do not leave vitamins on counter.  It was just flaxseed oil, but my heart still lept into my throat for a second there.

We were always very careful to keep Con away from overly sugared, processed, or potentially allergenic foods when he was an infant.  It was one of those Very Important Parenting Things.

I just caught Rowan delightedly gnoshing on some pop rocks his brother left on the table. 

NOM NOM NOM

Wake Up World

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My strategy of very carefully looking for work and only applying for jobs that are relevant to my career ambitions and in which I will absolutely excel is not working.

Switching to a vast carpetbombing of everything and anything that I am remotely qualified for and could possibly stand doing, even poorly.

It seems really obvious when I type it out like that, but it took me awhile to get there.

*singsong* It's naptime! It's naptime! Dou-ble naptime!

I don't give a fuck that it's five in the afternoon.  Booyah!

Nom nom nom

They make me giggle.

I'm blowing really hot and cold lately.  I can go from completely hating my life and actively fantasizing about how much better it would be if I had no husband/children, to being profoundly glad that I get to spend time with my babes and ecstatic about how much I love them.

It's amazing what over an hour of Dual Naptime can do.

Aaaah, and my defense mechanisms have kicked in.  Much better.