When is my streak of 'unluck' going to end, and preferably, not merge into 'bad luck?'
Last weekend, my lawn mower blew up. Maybe just the motor. Big smoke. I stopped mowing. McRed is going to look at it 'this week.' I told him the HOA people will be around soon, but he didn't look at it in time, and we'll get to that later.
So I quit and then unquit the mom's club. That's decisive action for you. I can't do a lot of the events, I just don't have it in me. But I'm going to try to do the playgroups for the boys. I don't think these moms really like me, but I don't know, maybe I'll grow on them.... ha ha ha.
I missed a conference with my group in one of my classes while writing a last-minute paper for another one. Doing so resulted in them coming to the conclusion I had the most powerpoint experience and nominating me for being the presenter. (I do, but I was going to try to sneak out of it, I was hoping for 'editor' since it's actually easier, and it's totally a rip-off to the person they nominated as editor, because, being an editor by trade, it's rare I make grammatical errors). *except in my blog, which I rarely edit because I don't think grammatcially, I think ramblingly.
I have to do bills tonight at each of the individual sites because I blew them off last week to do another paper for another class and they (the bills) are all due tomorrow, so I have to log on to all these sites, remember old passwords and pay them all.
So I'm running behind in every aspect of my life. The backyard isn't done at all and hasn't been touched because I'm boycotting it until I get some 'real' time to do it, or until fall when everything dies to the ground again.
And this is today:
Bright idea, lets go to Storytime at the library, get the kiddos out...
Actuality, Storytime at the library isn't sitting in the kids section looking for and browsing through Thomas books, sooo lets have a huge fit of "NO NO NO this door mommy this way mommy home Mommy truck home" and finally when I try to calm him down by leaving the storytime room
"Honey, storytime"
"No no no. thomas"
I think, right, lets pop over, grab a Thomas book, and go back to storytime.
Oh there are NO Thomas books (because we have them all checked out already) so get a truck book and a boat book for the son that is ACTUALLY enjoying storytime with his sister.
Back in storytime for a minute before...previously behaving toddler wants the truck book vs. the boat book and finally... we have to leave. A ROOMFUL of preschoolers and toddlers, and I have to leave because King Turbo wasn't pleased at all with my choice of activity for him. It's this thing with him and structure. Any 'circle time' or structured 'group' activity is met with great resistance. Boy, school is gonna be a blast....
We finally get outside the library where we have tantrum II because I refuse to pick up my fussing, incredibly not well-mannered Turbo. I sit on a bench while Drama and Bear stand, for five minutes, before Turbo finally 'gets' that no matter how red his face is, how loud his voice is, how many times he runs in circles, how many crying tearful pleas he shoots at me, I am not picking him up.
"Mommy, hold hands..." and off we go.
To the grocery store. That went incredibly well considering that my main tactic there was to ignore the sounds coming from the cart. It was hard since this is what I didn't hear... "Mammmmaaa where aaarree uuuuuu?" ummm. RIGHT HERE YOU CAN SEE ME... argh... a stranger passing by in the aisle thought it was cute (men always do, especially the older ones, they don't get the kids are being rotten tomatoes) and told me I wasn't, that I was actually hiding and no, he couldn't see me.
I did refuse to let them go to playland and color, which they asked for, because Turbo was still being too tempermental. This would be the very first time that I was so frustrated and upset with their behavior, that I didn't let them go to playland, buy them any treats or junkfood, or suggest in a merry voice that we get 'french fries and burgers' from the Big M. I did healthy shopping because they were so miserably misbehaving. My daughter for once didn't ask for a thing, didn't peep a complaint, and only toward the end hinted something about pineapples, to which I said no (only because they were whole, and I don't have a special pineapple cutting knife or skills) and we left. I mean, my daughter. didn't. ask. for. one. thing. Miraculous. I did give her points for that.
So we go home, and I start them lunch. They never get to lunch. They behaved just like they did all morning long and I promptly dropped them into their beds for a long nap figuring they'd wake up in a better mood. HA HA HA And to make it worse, my pleas to Nanny McPhee went unanswered.
So I'm beat. The house destroyed, and an HOA inspector comes up the stairs and knocks. I ignore him. STUPID STUPID STUPID. He was probably going to do something like tell me to mow my lawn before he makes my rounds or something. I thought he was a salesman. Anyhow, he made notes in his little 'write up the idiots who blew up their mower' book. I mean, it's not like I COULD mow my lawn if he told me to, but I could plea my cause with a "my mower blew up, promise it'll get fixed..."
My yard doesn't represent me or my philosophy on yards. It does represent my life, however. No matter how many good intentions goes into the yard, half of it still dies. Weeds still sprout. Wild mushrooms still grow. And bloody nothing ever blooms.
Moving on to the afternoon.
Drama had a free trial gym class today. I have to reschedule. I COULDN'T find the bloody building. I drove by all these buildings looking for numbers, but the problem is, it's a section of nothing but business complexes who hide their building numbers, and gym starz is in the back. I spent 35 minutes searching... never found it. Drama is pouting. Had to give her a strawberry fruit pop to get her to stop sulking. Left a message on their phone, and will reschedule for Thursday hopefully. Sigh.
On the way home, SISTER calls, yes she is now SISTER in capitals. Only because it sounds menacing that way. She informed me that we have an incredibly rare form of lipitodey thingamajigs that hang out on white blood cells like only 10 percent of the world's population, all ethnicities being included, have it. She broke it down by race. The only real reason I need to know this is because if I need bone marrow or an organ, she's pretty much it. How cheerful!
Go to starbucks because I SOOO deserve a grande vanilla latte.
Come home to HOA inspector writing in his little book that my lawn is too high, my tree ungroomed, my flowers in containers dead and my weeds are flowering. At least half the lawn is alright.
I shoulda bought some wine.
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