Apologies?

I'm not going to be much fun for a while. I guess I'll warn you now so if you don't come back to 'check in' I'll understand.
I'm not doing well.
Not at all.
I feel like an imploding building, the ruins falling all around me, in me...
I wish I had someone (a real true life friend) here right now.
All I have is my son who I don't want to see me cry.
And it makes me cry harder.

He left while I was at work today. We sold my car yesterday because it 'would help us save money and we could survive on just having his car until i found a better one.'
But he left.
We had a fight.
And he left.
He. Left.
When i go home today his clothes might not be there.
They will be at his mother's house, because his sister called me to tell me that was where he went.
And me and my son will be home alone, with no car. No way to get anyhwere, and what will I tell my son when he asks for his Daddy?
Someone help me...

Fun fights are good fights.

We are in the middle of a nice snowstorm here, but school wasn't cancelled...yet.
Daddy: If they call to say we have to pick up Little Man, I'll just leave work for the day and stay with him.
Me: No. I'll pick him up and go home.
Him: Why?
Me: Well, because I'm closer anyway.
Him: Well, my deliveries have been cancelled, so I'm going to be in the warehouse doing nothing all day. BORING! I'd rather be home, so I might as well stay with him and you stay at work...
Me: Um, hello? I'd rather be home, too. You think I want to be sitting at the desk from hell when I could be outside having a snowball fight with my son...?
Him: I have the phone. I just won't tell you if they call. You know they always call the cell phone first...
Me: Asshole! Lowering my head in defeat.

Three inches when we woke this morning, and it's still coming. I hope we ALL get sent home...
And to you out there- be careful. I saw the news this morning, people around me are getting it worse, so drive slow (or don't drive at all if you don't have to...) and bundle up with a nice blanket and a cup of hot chocolate after the snowball fights.

The way it works I guess

Why is it that when one thing goes wrong, EVERYTHING goes wrong right after? I've been in a funk, I was already partially in one before Sub. Mom passed, but that brought it on stronger. Funny, how people here have mentioned it without me saying anything about it (just by READING my writing) and yet my husband doesn't seem to notice and he LIVES with me. Asswipe. That makes it worse.
It just seems that every little thing is wrong in some way...
My sandwich today?
UGH.
I went to this nice place across the street that makes really good sandwiches...yet today they threw mine in a bag and called it a day. I swear that nothing was actually IN the bread. I had to play build-a-sandwich at my desk. That pissed me off because then I had sauce and stuff on my hands, and I was starving and I just wanted to eat. ALSO: a new agent (let's call him Fabio becasue he looks like a cocky little shit.) was here waiting on some people, and he literally stood in front of my desk waiting for me to take a bite. He was WATCHING me. Who does that? I hate that...I also hate that I had to wait for his nosey ass to leave to be able to take a bite of my sandwich in peace.
Does anyone else hate being watched while they eat? It's a huge pet peeve of mine. My mother used to do it all the time, trying to get some feedback on what we thought of the food by the look on our faces when we'd take the first bite. It wasn't long before I started taking my meals in the living room, away from her so I could eat without being studied. And it seems that everywhere I work- every SINGLE job I've had, I've had someone who does that around me.
At the Big Dept. Store I had brought some leftovers, and some lady who I didn't even know came to my table and leaned in real close (like her face was two inches from my food) and took a huge whiff and says "Oh, that smells good." I was grossed out, I got up and threw the whole plate out, and I hadn't even taken my first bite. I never ate in the break room again.
At the security job I had in Same Big Dept. Store, the only other girl would always watch me as I ate. I took to eating in the food court. I couldn't be around her when she ate, she made love to her food. (With every bite she took she would moan and make funny faces...yuck just the thought of it grosses me out)
Rambling...
nothing of real interest to say.
*SIGH*

Killing me...

There is a mandatory office meeting happening here as I write, about fifty feet away from me. Far enough so I don't hear what's going on (not that I want to) but not far enough for the smell of coffee and donuts to not reach me. It's killing me. Not the coffee smell so much (since I'm not really big on coffee) but the donut smell is making my stomach turn this way and that. I don't even like donuts, but I skipped breakfast this morning (Um, eat or be only ten minutes late today? Let's go with the ten minutes...) and now I'm STARVING. I hope they leave a at least one good donut.
***Sidenote, I went back there to make some copies for the meeting and I saw The Shitter get up, take a munchkin, shove it in his mouth, wipe his hands with a fresh napkin, and sit back down...only to get up three seconds later to do it again. He did this four times while I was making ten copies...don't tell me that man does NOT have OCD. I know OCD is a real disease/sickness, I'm not making fun of him, I have some OCD-ish tendencies myself, but this guy really takes the cake (or the munchkin) in this office.

Spring?

Today the sun is shining brightly, it's too warm to be bundled up. The ice caps that have covered the pavement for a week are quickly melting away.

She was buried today.

I didn't go.

Miscommunication had me thinking it was going to be NEXT Wednesday for some reason, I don't know why. So now I didn't go when she was alive, and I didn't go to her burial.

I'll be there this weekend to be with my friend. Forget everything else around here.


So next week we're having a heat storm I bet...this crazy weather is kicking all our asses. Little Man has had a runny nose for two days, but nothing else so I'm waiting it out hoping it's just kooky sinuses or something. It's funny how I'm listening to the people in the radio give the weather report, they keep saying 'cloudy' and 'afternoon flurries' but I'm looking out the window and there is not one cloud in the sky and a lot more people are out jogging (avoiding the ice caps, of course.)
The Shitter hasn't spoken to me and I'm glad. I think he's even taken to using his own stapler for once. I hope he splurges and buys himself his own printer, then I'll really be in heaven.

Does it sound harsh to YOU?

The Shitter walked into the office earlier today and stopped at my desk. Usually he is rushing by, sending a quick hello over his shoulder as he tackles my printer to see if his imaginary print-outs are there...
"Are there any faxes for me?" he asks.
Blink. Blink. Blinkblinkblinkblink.
"Shitter, wouldn't I have called you? Don't I always call you when you get faxes and you're not in the office?"
Crickets.
He just mumbled something that could have been "I guess." or "Go fuck yourself, Diana." and went to his desk.
Maybe it's just the depression that is settling in, maybe it's just that I'm finally getting sick and fucking tired if his stupid ass and it's starting to bubble, or maybe I really really really want him to leave me the fuck alone...
If it came out harsh, I'm not sorry, it's the truth.
Because seriously, what does he think I do all day? Does he think that I'm SOOOOOO busy that I can't even let them know about their paperwork, I know their shit is important, I never just put it aside and leave it there to rot until I feel like it...
I just really wish he would leave me alone sometimes. Go to your little office and drum your fingers on your desk waiting for your phone to ring and just leave. me. be.


I really need some time away from here...

No title is good enough.

She's gone.
I got The Call at 1:18 a.m on Sunday morning/Saturday night. I just sat looking out the window for what felt like an eternity, it took all I had in me not to get in the car and drive there.
I never did get to CT to say good-bye.
It was only an hour and a half away...and I didn't go.


At least she was here to spend one last Christmas with her family.

RIP, Substitute MOM, I love you. You will be missed.

Out of the mouth of .............

Little Man loves the song "No more monkeys jumping on the bed". I have to sing it almost as much as I sing Happy Birthday (which, since his second birthday IN NOVEMBER, has been EVERY DAY. No lie.)
So when we are on the bed together, whether I am dressing him or getting ready to sleep, he turns to me and says "No monkeys jumping on the bed?"
And I always say "No, baby, no monkeys jumping on the bed."
And this answer satisfies him without the song, sometimes.

The other day, Little Man and I were playing cars on the bed (because Mommy had a headache and was really laying down, but he considered it playing) when Daddy came home from work. Daddy saw us on the bed, took his coat and shoes off and proceeded to jump on the bed to join us. Our son looks at him, and raising his little fist says "Daddy, NO MONKEYS JUMPING ON THE BED!"

Yes, Daddy, you big monkey...

Why do I bother saying it at all, it's not like they listen...

Good morning, company name here, how can I help you?
Yes, I have an appointment I have to cancel.
Who is your appointment with, sir?
Dr. So and So.
Sir, you've got the wrong number, this is company name here.
Oh...what is Dr. So and So's number?
I have no idea, sir.

Good morning, company name here, how can I help you?
I'd like to make an appointment.
Is there a particular house you are interested in?
I'd like to make an appointment.
Hello?
I'd like to make an appointment with Dr. So and So.
You've got the wrong number, this is company name here.
Oh. Well what did I dial?
You dialed 555-5555.
Yeah, that's Dr. So and So's number.
No that's our number.
Yeah, and I'd like to make an appointment...

Good morning, company name here, how can I help you?
Yeah, I was supposed to meet you at eleven.
Who did you have an appointment with?
Oh, I don't know her name, I just know I was supposed to meet her at eleven.
Where was your appointment, maybe I can find out who you had an appointment with.
At my house.
Are you selling your home?
Oh, wait, is this the carpet cleaning place?

Myspace Layouts

How would I have explained THAT one?

Last night we ran out of any beverages Daddy might like. (Have I mentioned how picky he is? God, it's like having a kid! and Little Man isn't picky!) In the fridge was: Orange juice (which he can't drink because the acid makes his tummy hurt. Big baby.) Juicy Juice, punch flavor (that's the baby's and it's gross anyway. I won't even drink it unless it's all that's in there. But Little Man loves it.) and Milk (Not in the mood for milk). "Do you want to go to 7-Eleven to get something to drink?"
Not really. Crap, I have to start my car to try and melt some of that ice off...and I'm going to have to remember to get him his own ATM card...oh wait, never mind. Bad idea.
"Whatever. Wait." If I wasn't so scared about what the hell came out of the faucet I would have given him faucet water, I have to remember to buy a filter when I go to Wally World (WalMart) today.
So I went outside to start my car, came back in and sat back on the couch. I left the two defrosts on (front and back) and waited another half hour before going outside. The ice was so thick it didn't look like the defrost was doing anything. So I left the car on while I went to 7-Eleven in Daddy's car. When I got back, I didn't feel like coming back out again later so I started stabbing at the ice with Daddy's car key. Some of it was actually coming off, thanks to the help of the defrost, but I was getting burns on my hands from the ice. (Gotta remember to buy gloves, too.) I didn't think until later that I could have broken his key... oooops! He doesn't need to know what I used to get the ice off...I also have to remember to go into the basement and see if my ice scraper is down there. Why is it that those things are always in the way but disappear when you need them the most?

This morning he cleaned my car off before we went to work. It rained more ice last night, and the sheet of ice was back, and like a bounty commercial it was STRONGER AND THICKER THAN EVER! He didn't use his car key...

It's raining ice-ice baby!

Mama Lee feels my pain right now. Huge Noreaster coming our way! Get milk and bread! Make sure you have candles! Stay indoors!

Pshea.

Over here we had an inch (if that) when I got up this morning. Then it turned to rain, and it's freezing up causing everyone who dared to go to work to go into a frenzy. I'm at work, Daddy's at work, Little Man is at daycare. Or he will be until my sister goes to get him- because now they're shutting down and getting the kids home before the roads really freeze up. My boss doesn't care, neither does Daddy's so we're both in it for the day. I wish I had brought my car, I would have used that as an excuse to leave work early. (I have bad tires, Daddy dropped me and Little Man off today.)

So instead of the million inches of snow we were told about, we got about three inches of ice on the roads to deal with. Nice.

Passed down

I talk in my sleep. All the time. It's actually gotten better, I used to sleep walk, too, but that has stopped. I used to scare the shit out of my sister (we shared bedrooms till she went away to college) because I would stand on my bed and start singing in french. (I don't know french, but she was studying it in school and she understood me. This is what she tells me, anyway, and I call her a liar.)
I once tried to open our front door (we lived on a third floor at the time) and my mother started putting chairs in front of my bedroom door so she would hear me if I got up.
Nice, huh?
It stopped for a while, like when Daddy and I first started living together. Then I got pregnant and it started all over again, full force.
Daddy would tell me that I was helping someone prepare mixed drinks, I was having a phone conversation, I was telling someone about a dog I saw...
my brain never stops working, no wonder I'm always so tired.

Well, I seem to have passed this wonderful trait to my son. There was one time he was sleeping, I was laying next to him watching t.v, and the volume was very low because Daddy was already sleeping and I was waiting to get tired. I heard my son sigh and say "Cars..." but I figured I was hearing things.
Then there was one night I had put him to bed and I was cleaning my kitchen and I thought I heard him call out for Daddy, who was in the living room. I told Daddy to go see what he wanted, but Daddy looked at me weird when he came out of the room and told me I was crazy, the boy was sound asleep. He called out for Daddy again, this time I poked my head into the room and the boy was holding his own conversation with Daddy. It was hardly understandable, this was when he was talking less English and more Chinese. I went and told Daddy about it, Daddy says "Nice thing for him to get from you." and I say "Fuck you."
Last night someone was in my son's way apparently, because he said "Watch it." I was not fully asleep yet, and I lift my head to look at him and, yup, sleeping soundly.
I kinda wish he didn't get this from me, since I know how much my mother didn't sleep because of it. I'm going to worry a whole lot when he gets moved into his own room.
Is locking him in too harsh?

• The tupperware party has been postponed. It was supposed to be last month, but at the end of December Blondie found out she was pregnant and she has been massively sick. So she has postponed the party until she feels better. I almost forgot to mention this but a friend of mine just called to ask my opinion on a toy that he wants to buy his girlfriend. Good to know I'm the consultant on these things, and yet, i don't even have one...
• My back hurts. Just felt like throwing that in.
• My sister has just moved in with her boyfriend. She's been with him about three years, and he is a god send. She is nervous. I told her to suck it up. And that Little Man would be over every other day, hahaha.
• Selfless is pregnant, too. That's the other SIL. (I really should change their names...) She is due in September. I don't know if SelfISH is happy about it or not, seeing as how she recently had the miscarraige. SelfLESS has had it pretty easy, no morning sickness (yet) or anything worth complaining about...I hope it keeps going that way for her.
• Yeah, my back really hurts. I think I need a new chair at work, for all my sitting needs are apparently not being met.
• I lost my left contact lense this morning while I was putting it on. Or rather, I thought I had put it in, got into the shower and noticed I couldn't see out of my left eye, and I couldn't find it on the floor (looking with only my right eye, mind you) so I had to open a new contact. Thank goodness I use disposables and always order extra, things like this always happen to me...
• I'm bored, can you tell???

Clapping like a kid going to CHUCK-E-RAT's place

We're going home!!!!!!!!
OKay, so it's only for a weekend, but we're going HOME!!!!

Daddy and I are both from NYC, and we can never seem to find the time or funds to go and spend some time back with our families. BUT WE'RE GOING!!! In two or three weeks, we're still getting the details worked out with Daddy's aunt (where we will stay) and we will be leaving a Friday after work and coming home Sunday.
I'm just so excited.
We're laying our heads at his aunt's house, but we're going to be too busy going to both of our families houses to actually be sitting long enough to even get comfortable anywhere.
I'm happy.
I'm excited.
I haven't seen my family in so long!!!! And they are super excited to finally see Little Man! And Daddy's family is excited, too they kept telling us "You better bring the baby!" like we would have anywhere to dump the rugrat for more than two days, sheesh.

Hmph.

So Anna Nicole is dead.
That sucks.
I have the feeling the autopsy will show that she OD'd, and apparently I'm not the only one who thinks so.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not a cold-hearted B**** (okay sometimes I am, but still) and I feel bad for her passing, especially since she has left a beautiful little girl behind...but the media? They are assholes.
Last night nothing else was going on in the world and MSNBC was covering the Anna story. Daddy and I were stuck to the t.v because wouldn't you know that someone said she was a role model. ROLE MODEL. Role model to who, exactly?
I mean, now they're totally sugar-coating her life and making her an angel now that she has passed, forgetting that just two days ago they were calling her a druggie and accusing her of having something to do with her son's death.
Hmph.
Fucking media.

do you hear that?

CRICKETS!

So, no one liked my M&M's, huh?
I haven't had this much silence since I started the blog...
it's okay.
I understand.
If it matters, I wasn't paid to post that. I just listened to what the commercial said! They said "Become an M&M" and I said "okay!"

I wanted to share that I also liked the idea of personalizing M&M's(also seen on a commercial) and putting my own message on some as a gift to Daddy and Little Man for V Day, but when I went to order some, you have to buy 4 packages.
4.
FOUR.
CUATRO.
very small, teeny tiny packages.

I don't need four packages (which comes to about $50) I just need one. My son can't even read, he is only planning on swallowing the entire package.
So I felt that $50 was too much to spend on M&M's and I didn't order my own personal message. So back to a blank slate on what to give my men this year...

Become an M&M? HELL YES!!!

Me and Daddy. He is green because his car is green, and now his favorite color is green. I'm yellow because, well, my skin color is practically piss yellow so...
And here is Little Man.
Like??? Go here, make your own. Let me know if you do so I can see!

Irking me

I don't like being checked up on. I think that is why my bossman and I get along so great, he leaves me the hell alone to do what I have to do. Yes, I bullshit on the internet a lot; blogging, reading the news, sending e-mails back and forth with my mother because it's the only way I can communicate with her without wanting to kill myself; but my WORK GETS DONE. Always. And always on time, my bossman and none of the agents ever have to wait for anything unless they give it to me and need it five seconds later.
Please tell me why The Shitter feels the need to check up on what I'm doing every minute of every day.
This man really pisses me off. Have I said that before? Many times? Well, I mean it.
You know what he has started doing??? Do you??? He prints something out from our back computer to our front printer, which is located on the left side of my desk. I have an "L" shaped desk, with the bottom of the "L" on my left, so he has to come behind me to get his print outs. There is a printer connected to the back computer. You know what else he does???? He prints out ONE PAGE AT A TIME and comes to get them ONE AT A TIME. Just so that he can get a look at what is on my screen. Now I'm not stupid, if I'm doing something that is not 'work related' I minimize the screen when I hear someone coming, so that my 'work stuff' is on the screen. Just because I know he is checking up on me. But for what? Is he going to tell the boss? Frankly, my bossman doesn't give a hoot unless my work was slacking, which it isn't.
The Shitter also comes to my file cabinet multiple times a day, and he thinks I don't see it but he's checking my screen again. I have mentioned that we have floor to ceiling windows? Well, those REFLECT, and I can see him trying to look at my screen. Also? Comes to use my stapler when he has a fully functioning one right on his desk, chock full of staples. I'm going to start hiding my damn stapler to give him one less reason to come to my desk.
It just irks the hell out of me, makes me feel like a third grader with the teacher standing behind me to look at my work.

What level is YOUR husband on?

Because I think mine will always be stuck in the sports car section...
Daddy got a new (to him) car. We're finally back to having two cars. No more fighting over who has to go where and when and "Why can't you remember that I get out of work at five NOT FIVE TEN???"
Pictures soon, I hope. (I still haven't fixed my phone.)
As for Little Man? He only wants to ride in "DADDY'S CAR!!!" I picked him up from daycare yesterday only to have him kicking and screaming because he saw I came in my car, and he wanted to be in DADDY'SCAR DADDY'SCARDADDY'SCAR!!!!!

A tale of a TRULY unfit mother

Sourpatch Baby had asked long, long ago why Daddy and I don't try and get custody of Little Daddy. Well, we were not to stable until about a year ago. We were moving around a lot, and here the court system would have laughed in our faces when we told them our situation.
Saturday, my MIL had an appointment with My Honey to see a house closer to all of us. She lives half an hour away now, and her kids have been begging her to move a little closer. So she got into her truck (she has an Isuzu something or other) with Little Daddy (who was apparently spending the weekend with her...not us) and was making her way to the appointment, where Selfish and I were going to meet her. That is until she stopped at a red light and was rear ended by some speed demon who didn't notice she was fully stopped. This caused a chain reaction, where my MIL hit the person in front of her, and so on and so on, until it was a five-car almost pile-up. My MIL and Little Daddy were taken to the hospital via ambulance. Everyone was at the hospital, Selfish called The Whore so she would go. I didn't want to see her, but hey, her son was in an accident, I wasn't going to say anything. Until an hour passed, two hours, three and she still hasn't shwon up at the hospital. WTF, right? Three and a half hours pass and she calls Selfish on her cell saying "I'm outside." Selfish says "We're on the fifth floor, just take the elevators." The Whore says "Can't you just send Little Daddy down?"
I'll give you a minute.
...
...
...
...
...
She didn't come upstairs, she didn't come upsatirs to make sure her OWN SON was okay- who by the way was being seen by a doctor because he said his back was hurting him. She didn't come upstairs to sign any paperwork, she just didn't come up. When the nurses kept asking where Little Daddy's mother was (for signatures on x-rays and procedures and such) Selfish told them she didn't know. Daddy signed everything. The nurses pulled Selfish aside and questioned her about The Whore. The nurses themselves could not believe she was parked outside. But it turns out she wasn't parked outside anymore...Selfless got a call from The Whore on the phone saying they were taking too long to bring Little Daddy downstairs so she was leaving.
...
...
...
...
...
She left her son in the hospital without even going upstairs to see how he was, to see if he was afraid, to hug him and be with him while he was being checked by complete strangers in white coats. He is five fucking years old. And he was basically alone.

Yesterday we spent the day at my MIL's house, doing everything for her. She has a sprained neck so she can't do too much. Little Daddy was still there, no word from his mother. Until six o'clock when she called to see if Selfless could drop him off at her house- forty five minutes away. Selfish was the one who picked up the phone and told her quite a few things about herself and said that she better get off her ass and come pick him up, that if she could find a car to go to the Whore Clubs she goes to every weekend then she could find a car to come pick up her son. The Whore refused. She said we better drop him off or Daddy was going to have to miss work and stay with him because she was not coming to pick him up. She claimed to have company and she wouldn't leave. WOULDN'T, not couldn't.
It sickens me.
My MIL started to cry.

On our drive home I told Daddy I would try calling the lawyer to see what we could do about getting custody of him. This year we are more stable, we finally have settled and we can take care of him. I feel that if they just gave her a drug test, they would take him away so fast she wouldn't even notice. Not that it would even matter to her, she would have more free time to party and not have to worry about a kid. (She has TWO children remember? The youngest is only 10 months old.)

What's worse is a story Little Daddy told us yesterday. He told us how he went to bed the other night with a belly ache because he was hungry and his mom didn't listen to him. This is coming from a FIVE YEAR OLD. I have a feeling his deposition with the lawyer will take a few hours with all the stories that kid must have.

My life is a frikkin sitcom.

Did you know that a shift knob on an automatic car can come right off?
No?
Me neither.
And if you did, why didn't you tell me???? Then I wouldn't have had the stupified look on my face this morning as I lifted my hand, and the shift knob was still CONNECTED TO IT! Daddy found it hilarious. It's not funny asshole. The screw that is supposed to hold the thing together was no where on the floor of my car, Daddy thinks I may have vaccuumed it up yesterday I would have noticed a screw but the shift knob was fine when I drove home. So someone has to be playing some sick joke (I leave my doors unlocked, yeah, yell at me.) or the car likes to eat important screws. Daddy had to finagle a screw from my stash in my glove compartment (thank God we save screws we find everywhere.) until we can get a good look under the seats later on. He already called me to ask how the shifter was. (Not how I was, THE SHIFTER! LOL!)
So yeah. Funny. Thing is I don't think the boss would believe me if I told him that was why I was late today....

Some recent pics of the boy

"CHEEEEEEESE!" This was taken on his 2nd birthday, a small quiet celebration at my mother's house.
How devilish he looks, eyeing that cake, huh? Can you see him rubbing his hands together like "Gimme some of dat cake!"
Here he is stuffing himself with cake. I tried to keep it healthy and give him apple juice to drink, but he bounced off the walls for an hour regardless.
This was Thanksgiving. He was telling a story of some sort. Notice the binky on the paper towel, his dessert after the cookie he was having. I must mention how he still has not had the binky since we took it away. No crying. No fits. Nothing. And if you look closely, you'll see Little daddy in the backround, sitting way too close to the television.

The Idiots are in OTHER offices, too!

I had to share this with you all, since I was beginning to think that only my office was full of 'tards.
Me. Him.

Good afternoon, company name here, how can I help you?
Hi, I just received something in the mail from you guys and I don't know what it is.
Okay...well, what does it say?
Ummm, well, it has money values or something on it...looks almost like a tax paper...
*silently slapping forehead* Are you a Real Estate Agent?
Yes.
Then that is a 1099 form, it means that you did a deal with an agent in our office and we sent you the 1099 so you can file it with your taxes.
I did a deal with your office?
You did if you received that paper, sir.
I don't remember doing any deals with your office...oh wait. Yes, I did...so this is my tax paper?

Oh lordy lordy lordy...

I don't get it

Maybe because I'm not a smoker...

This morning I went to deposit my paycheck and the woman who parked next to me lit a cigarette when she got out of her car. We had the two best parking spots, right in front, seeing as how we were both there at the butt-crack of dawn, so her walk to the door was short. Right before we reach the door, she threw the cig away.
What is the point? Isn't that like throwing money away? Aren't cigs expensive now? You think she is just getting a fix but still trying to keep her New Year's Resolution?
I don't get it.

Holding my hand out....

Quick gimme my Mother Of The Year Award before anyone notices what a mistake you're making!!!

Bruised and swollen.
Two words that describe my son ring and middle fingers.

Bruised and deflated.
Two words that describe my heart, my ego, my confidence...

I opened the bathroom door to yell at Daddy to "Get out! We're late!" and stepped back to shut it, but it wouldn't shut. Then I see him. Standing there, no air passing through his lungs as he stood frozen with a look of horror on his face. Finally the wail came out, loud and strong. "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" I scream as I grab him, take his hand into mine and run into the room where I could sit down and look at it. He has dents where the door was pressing, I want to cry with him. I get ice and sit back down. He is still holding his Flintstones Gummi Vitamin in his other hand. He wants to eat the ice instead of the gummi. In two minutes all is fine, the fingers move with no complaint from him, there is no blood, no bones sticking out (Hey, I had broken two fingers getting them stuck in a door when I was nine...) and he complains that I didn't let him eat the ice and all he is stuck with is an orange gummi. Daddy finally comes out of the bathroom (Nice of you to join us, DEAR.) and Daddy's kisses make everything better for the boy, you know, because mine are only healing when the MAN is not around. Grrrrr....
When I drop him off at daycare, his fingers are only a little swollen, but you can tell they are going to be a little purple later on. I can already hear my mother: "Why weren't you watching him???"