Back Asswards

I decided to hit my head hard enough to put myself into a coma
So that the next 183 days will go by faster.
Only I hit my ass instead.
On the corner of the coffee table.
(And no, the coffee table is not super-tall and I am not a midget.)
But it must have caused some amnesia
Because I don't remember what I was doing under there.
It was after I had rearranged all the furniture.
And after I found Haley's retainer container in the hall closet.
Leave it to me to do it entirely wrong.
All I got was a bruise on my ass and a mild case of amnesia.
And now this post looks like a poem about my ass
Which is so amusing to me that I'm going to leave it this way.

Thoughts for This Evening

• If I can hang out with Keira Knightley by climbing into a cupboard then I'm going to do it right now. I hope she's under the kitchen sink because I think that's the only one I can fit into.
• Why do my teenager's friends use up my limited texting by telling me they have to pee and they're going to use my bathroom?
• How do I tell someone what I really want without making them feel unmanly?
• Haley would be perfectly happy with a pomegranate and an old crusty mostly empty jar of Fluff for Christmas so why am I buying her a new camera?
• How long is 184 days?

After eating half a bag of jellybeans and some whole coconut milk curry in some silly attempt to feel even more miserable than I already was I discovered that my pudge had bloated up so that it was actually hanging over the edge of my laptop as it sat on my lap. And as the pudge expanded like a giant hot air balloon it pushed the laptop farther and farther away until I had to stretch my arms WAY OUT to type.
This was a problem.
I stopped eating things that hurt and started drinking Fennel Tea and taking peppermint capsules but it was too late. I was up until 2 a.m. feeling extremely hungover.
So today I took all the crazy and I put it into a more productive behavior than eating food dye and high frutose corn syrup and fat and instead I had Haley help me clean her entire room which is a huge feat that rarely happens all at once. Sure, I sneak in there every day and pick up trash that she'll never notice is missing. Today we sorted her books by size, color, and copywrite date, found lonely socks under her mattress where they slither away to hide from her sweaty night feet, and found her retainer container--which is a fun thing to say outloud.
Then I pulled the bed halfway out of the couch downstairs and had Haley crawl into the crack to dig out all the trash that the kids had stuffed in the couch to make it look like they NEVER eat in the livingroom. Then I vacuumed the mattress, and under it, and Haley's butt. IT WAS RIGHT THERE. What was I supposed to do? We rearranged the furniture back to where it was before that odd askew day last year when I wanted my ENTIRE life to be crooked just so that it would make more sense.
Then I had Emily help me clean her side of the bedroom she shares with Gina. It's nice to see their faces when they realize how much crap they keep and how much space there is when you throw away all of those crumpled up pieces of blank paper, broken toys, and dead mp3 players. I almost think they might dig through the trash can in the kitchen to save the things I've thrown away, cause I swear a couple of those mp3 players had already seen the inside of the trash can two years ago.
Ok, so now what do I do? This place is too small to clean forever. Maybe annoying the kids will be my new hobby. Hey Haley! Come here so I can vacuum you some more!

Reverting

Since he left I've made up for all those things I stopped doing before he got here. I started chewing off my fingernails in the car on the way home. I ate a bag of jelly beans and some chicken curry so even though I'm not any fatter, I look like I gained 20 pounds of bloat this morning. I am still in my pajama pants and I might just stay that way all day. I'm eating 2 day old leftover oatmeal. My posture is so bad that my breasts are actually brushing against my thighs. I haven't done dishes in a day and a half, which in my house means they are piled high and haphazzardly and no one is brave enough to even look at them without fear of being trapped on the kitchen floor under an avalanche of mismatched plastic cups and stolen restaurant plates.
And the BEST news is that the girls informed me last night that they have Monday off from school. WHAT??? Monday isn't a holiday?! I'll bet the teachers decided they just couldn't handle seeing kids so soon after having to be thankful and wanted to hold off reality just a little longer.
So here I am stuck with them one more day and I can't shut myself in my bed and curl up on the side he slept on and pretend he's still here. Because they come in every 30 seconds with excuses like: Can I have a piece of bread? or Can I call Grandma? Or Emily has been on the Wii 2 hours and 28 minutes longer than me! I know they really just need to know where I am and what I'm doing every second so they feel secure that I'm not upstairs crying.
Besides, they pick on me when I cry.
It's not the End of the World Mom.
Yes, yes it is. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

He's Halfway to Salt Lake City

and I am home in Vermont. :(

I hope he had an interesting trip

• escaping across the border and back, and across and back
• listening to my father name every tree on his 27 acre tree farm, the bear scratched tree, the racoon's home tree, the stump from the tree he cut down in 1976
• while the girls and I walked behind with our sacred sticks and fern crowns, bowing to the sacred stumps and moss and trees and puddles and noisily mocking Grandpa
• watching Gina catapult a pencil into her own eye
• making too-perfect icicles on the gingerbread house
• visiting the Magic Red Button
• trying to use nudity and cesspool in the same sentence on a Facebook status update
• watching people at the liquor store buy beer in shopping carts like real Vermonters do

And of course the second he left the November storm blew in and now I'm back to being stuck in the house with a girl who keeps popping out her retainer to swear at me properly and a girl who doesn't realize she's pmsing when she yells at me about how bored she is. ERGH.

Got to Post Something So I Don't Lose my Following

So we've been to Fryeburg on the Maine border. We've stood on the line between the U.S. and Canada in Derby. We've been to the orthodontist twice. We spent an evening surrounded by man-scent. In about an hour and a half I'm taking him to the mom's therapy group I go to. We've driven in circles for hours every day and I realize more and more that I live in my car.

Three states and one country later and the trip is almost over. Then I'm all alone and more bitter than ever because I'm going to miss him way too much.

Wyoming is a whole lot farther away than Canada.

See you on Friday evening when I'm alone again --blog world!!!

A Sneaky Post

Ooops, I disappeared. I had nothing to write about because everything is so cool. And besides, it would be rude to say, hey Nick, wait a minute, that thing you did was really funny and I have to go blog about it!
But now he's still in bed and the kids just went off to school so I snuck on here to post something quickly before he realizes that I'm missing.
We went out with Abrah and Bill Saturday night and things worked out better than I planned. Here's a quick run-down:

• Having the same part of the same thumb missing because of a woodworking accident makes you as good as TWINS.
• As long as there are plenty of quarters men are happy.
• Calling it man-scent doesn't make it smell any better.
• Bill is my new picker and as odd as that sounds, if he's comfortable enough to talk non-stop for 6 hours then something must be right. :)
• Blue cheese can be deadly.
• Hard cider DOES have alcohol and I can't believe I was the first person EVER to order that.
• There are at least 5 ways to get there from here--and all of them are the same distance.
• Vermont has ALOT of roads but FEW people
• Which is a GOOD thing because there are a lot of intersections I just don't know how to navigate. I think the locals set it up that way just to prove that we're not from there.
• I DRIVE ALOT.
• No matter how I look at all the details I just don't want to spend the rest of my life without him.