a typical morning

So I was sitting at my computer (fully clothed this time thank you very much creepy neighbor guy) stalking my favorite blogs like the lurker I truly am when all of the sudden I had the strangest sensation come upon me. I thought to myself for a minute "hmmm.. I know this feeling. This is something I've felt before. Whatever could it be?" I couldn't exactly place it at first.

I looked to this little guy who was sitting so sweetly in my lap.

Ain't he a doll?

As I was gazing into that sweet sweet face, the feeling started to change, he started to laugh, and I started to freak out. That so familiar sensation was the warmth of pee that was quickly filling my lap, puddling under me in my office chair, and literally running down my legs. Ever had another person's pee running down your legs? Try it sometime. It's an experience. (By the way, how does one manage to pee through a diaper, 2 layers of clothing and still manage to fill the seat of a rather large office chair? It's a mystery.)

I jerked him up out of my lap up over my head a little to forcefully I guess. It's a good thing he's cute, because as I was looking up at his still grinning face he vomited. Right into my face. Ever tasted someone else's vomit before? Again, quite the experience.

Some days it just doesn't pay to get out of bed.

They say it's your birthday....

na na na na naaaa. It's my birthday too, yeah, but it sure doesn't feel that way. I've been waiting my whole life to feel like a grown-up. Maybe one day I will, but apparently today is not the day. (Just ask my neighbor across the street. I'd say he was a perv for watching me blog in my skivvies, but I was the one who left the blinds up. I now have to turn my chair around until he gets bored and goes inside..../shudder...creep. He just waved at me too.)

Has it really been a year since I hit 33? There is a most gorgeous angel food cake with fresh berries and chocolate sauce that exclaims that I really am turning 34 today (NOT 44 like my son Sam has been telling everyone who will listen. punk.) It's just sorta unreal to me this year. I can't seem to get into it. Where's the wisdom that's supposed to come with age? Where's the grace? Where's the fame, the fortune, the...well, the wisdom anyhow.

I don't have any problems with being 34 per se. I'm not pulling out or even dying my gray hair or scoping out wrinkles. I don't feel the need to start counting backwards. Matter of fact, I got carded at the dentist a couple of weeks ago. (She asked if I was at least 18. (I know, you hate me. I would hate me too. /wink)

I can usually at least muster some anticipation of a gift. My husband always gives me great gifts. He usually does it all on his own, but he needed help this time and asked me for some ideas. He was unhappy when I said new silverware, but when I suggested that the money he'd spend on me should go towards buying more food storage and emergency essentials he bout gagged. Apparently, he doesn't consider that a good birthday gift. I told him folks in KY would right about now. He said that we don't live in KY. Hmm...good point. Guess we'll see later what he decided.

In the meantime, what is wrong with me? Besides the fact that I really should put my clothes on. Maybe I am growing up after all....

Nah.

Just say no...

Sometimes I think I must have been smokin' dope the day I relented and agreed to have children.

I remember what it was like when I still had a brain before. Dave and I used to scoff at those horrible moms in Walmart shrieking at their demon spawn precious little angels in public. We had all kinds of opinions on what these women were doing wrong, cuz "it's just not that hard to raise a polite, law-abiding member of society. No kid of ours would EVER act like that and certainly not in public."

We were idiots.

I would now like to apologize to the following:
ahem...

1. My two closest friends out West. I judged you the most. Please forgive me.
1. The lady in Dollar General. So sorry. I would have been glad to pick it all up.
2. The teachers at preschool. You are my heroes. Please don't kick us out.
3. All Target and Publix shoppers. We'll meet again this weekend, I'm sure. My sincerest regrets in advance.
4. The people who have to sit in front and behind us at church. Next week it will be your turn. Need some Cheerios?
5. My mom. While they aren't just like me (I was just great) it really isn't as easy as I thought it was. Sorry for doubting you.

and finally...

I am so very very sorry to my own demon spawn. Mothering is hard, and sometimes I really suck at it. Love you anyway.

Watch it, mini-van driver, I will run. you. down.

I hate to drive. I admit it. I can be something of a road hazard at times. I freak a little when I have to change freeways. I have no sense of direction, so I manage to get lost in my own neighborhood. I can never find my car in the parking lot, and I still haven't figured out what that green light thingy means on the dash of my own car.

I can't change a flat tire, my oil, or any other of the numerous little fuses or spark thingies they try and teach women who want to be more independent. I am car slash driving impaired in every way really. Just today I managed to run three red lights while trying to turn left, blocked at least two intersections, and double parked on a one-way street. I speed a little and sometimes tailgate.

I've done all these horrible things and more.

There are limits, however, to my madness. No, I'm not winning the safest driver of the year award, but I haven't tried to kill anyone either. For the most part I don't wreck into anything but my own parked vehicles (and our garage door and Dave's weight bench..once). I am not completely stupid or totally oblivious of others around me.

For the most part, I am a timid and defensive driver. I will always move over when someone behind me wants to pass. I never intentionally cut people off and feel just horrible when I do. I don't text message, apply make-up, or fiddle with the CD changer while moving. I never go way under the limit, I'll always let you in if you aren't a jerk trying to cut way ahead of others, and dadgummit, I know how to merge.

Except for the fact that I don't drive super confidently and well, I am always courteous. That being said...

The next time you endanger my children with your self-absorbed disdain for others and their right to be on the road as well, mini-van driver, (a.k.a. moving roadblock) you will feel the wrath of Kitty. I will change like the Hulk from this timid driver into a shrieking ball of road rage just waiting to run down anyone stupid brave enough to get in my way.

You have been warned. Heaven help you.