So, I’m sick.
And not just in the head.
I’m also sick in the nose. As in, it’s not working. Did I mention I was pregnant and can’t take any meth-type cold medicines? And man do I love those. Not only can you breath so much better, you can also pick a car up and throw it.
(Oh, pseudoephedrine! You!!)
So, instead of being able to get hopped up on cold meds, and getting dressed and stuff, I am laid out on the couch, mouth breathing like a motherfucker, and throwing stuff across the room for my kid to eat. All while rubbing Aquaphor on my chapped, peeling nose like it’s my job.
(Does anyone else feel anxious when they get sick or is it just me?)
My kid was sick all last week and the little jerk gave it to me. But, my mom was here, which helped him get his mind off the fact that he was a coughing, little hot potato for five days.
Sidenote: my mom made chicken and dumplings.
And I’ve decided I want a bumper sticker that says…
I eat chicken and dumplings for the dumplings.
Dumplings make the world go round.
I care more about dumplings than if my kid is on the honor roll.
My dumplings are smarter than your dumplings.
Or something like that. Because oh my god, I could eat all my feelings, all day long, in the form of delicious little dumplings. But, I should be careful, dumplings equal dimples….on my butt.
Later in the week, all the weathermen got boners and said we were going to get 1-3 inches of snow. So, I promised my kid if he went to bed at 6:30 pm he could wake up and build a baby snowman. And by baby, I meant, like, three inches. He told me he was going to build a huge snowman, with a button nose and two eyes made out of corn.
Sure, sweetie. Ni ni.
So, the next morning, I awoke to find a couple of icicles and a frozen rat my cat had killed outside.
Good thing chocolate for breakfast makes a two and a half year old forget everything.
I’ve decided I am going to start blogging a lot more of the everyday, seemingly insignificant, things in our lives.
I started this blog as a place to stash all my memories. Because stashing actual things in my house is risky. They’ll either be torn, lost, or peed on. They are safer here, in this space.
Lately I have been thinking too much before I post, fixated on entertaining people. I am caring too much about things I shouldn’t care about. I’ve gotten way off track and am missing the point of all this.
I need to find a new groove.
So, in review….
We’ve all been sick.
My kid thinks Frosty’s eyes are made of corn and not coal.
And I don’t care if you guys like me anymore.
Except I totally do. Obviously.
Stay tuned for loads of mundane shit.