Monday, May 2, 2016

Morning at My House

Hiii. (This is how I'm going to begin all blogs posts from now on.)

So, House of Cards, Season whatever is on now, Episode 8. We put it on last weekend and I fell asleep within the first four minutes. So I won't talk about that one, but I am dying to talk about the episode, not sure if it is 6 or 7, where the perfect political wife greets the husband in the bathroom with "good morning" and a screw at the "his" sink. Then we learn they have a 5 or 6-year-old son who interrupts them to ask for breakfast, and THEN we learn they also have a 2-year-old daughter. Are they for real??

House of Cards: Ruining marriages across America.

I mean, who does that? It must make some people think that "If I don't do that, I must have married the wrong person!" This, on the other hand, is what morning looks like at my house:

First of all, you will never catch Senior shaving. Second, our "master" bath is like a tiny closet that barely fits one person when you consider that a sink, toilet and shower are all stuffed in there. Third, Junior wakes up sometime between 6:30 and 7:30, sometimes 6:15. Unless of course I have set an alarm, "just in case" for 7:45, then he will sleep until my alarm wakes him up, whining because he would actually have kept sleeping. He pads into our room, demands that one of us unlock our phone, preferably my phone (the 6+). Senior and I both pretend to keep sleeping, one of us opens one eye, and hands him the phone. We tell him to turn the volume all the way down or go back to his room. He usually complies. All the commotion, however, typically wakes LJ. On a good day LJ babbles in his crib for a while. When he starts wailing, I elbow Senior in the ribs and tell him to go get him. Or I go get him and slap Senior on the ass and tell him it's time to wake up with the rest of his family. One of us wrestles LJ onto the changing table and pins him down with at least 20% of our body weight. He still escapes and stands up and we just take off his diaper and let him run around naked for a bit. On a good day, he doesn't water his books or squat behind the furniture and take a dump. (This is a joke. He hasn't done this for a long time. Like since before he was aware that he should hide behind furniture to do it.) He's actually pretty cute and likes to sit his bare ass in my lap and read books. Junior meanwhile watches the phone in a zombie-like state, now sitting on the glider in LJ's room. Also sort of cute. At this point I'm on track to get to work at like 10:00, so suddenly everything turns frantic and I command that the boys go downstairs so I can get ready. All flesh and crevices covered with half-presentable clothing? Check. Twenty seconds worth of make up applied? Check. Hair in ponytail? Check. More whining ensues from the kitchen as Junior asks for oatmeal with chocolate for breakfast (i.e. Nutella--this is a good trick actually, but I suppose I'm not winning any Jessica Seinfeld culinary mom of the year awards). I rush through the kitchen, pulling together something I can eat in the car, blow kisses all around, and I'm out.

And as you can see, our window for morning sex was bolted shut all the time. Ah well.

Monday, April 18, 2016

New Job, New Schmob

Hello! I haven't blogged here in a while because commuting 2+ hours every day TOTALLY SUCKS the life out of you. And my 3-year-old is going through a phase (heaven help us that it's only a phase) where he refuses to go to bed no matter what time it is or how tired he is. Seriously, he went to bed at 12:30 last Saturday. Tonight he actually went to bed at a reasonable time with reasonably little fuss, hence, blogging. I also got home after LJ went to bed so I didn't have him to worry about. I miss him!

I don't really feel like bitching about this job today, but suffice it to say that I could. Ugh. Law firms. Anyone thinking about going to law school and then working at a law firm after? Just say no. Don't ask questions. Just don't do it.

That telecommute day once a week? Every time I try to take it, there's some sort of (non) problem. I still do take it at times, but after getting reamed for suggesting that I take a certain day to telecommute, planned in advance so that I could go to an eye doctor appointment, I'm keeping my distance for a few weeks. Haha, as in NOT keeping my distance and driving 45 miles to work each way. My boss explained that I can try to plan things but if work comes up I will have to cancel those things. Which is exactly what I said in the email in which I said I would telecommute on eye doctor day, "unless, of course, something for work comes up." I literally said that. She further explained that in the event of an emergency, I could see a doctor, and that would be a sick day. Which is funny to me, because I did have an emergency, and I went to 3 doctor appointments, one which had to be rescheduled because of work (something that I had to do that was on the calendar for weeks but I was only asked two days prior), and 5 trips to the lab without ever telling anyone. Because if I dread ever telling my boss that I'm pregnant, then I sure as hell don't want to tell her that I had a miscarriage. So what did I do while literally having a miscarriage? I went to work.

Whoops, I bitched. Ah. That feels better. Why didn't I blog about this sooner?'s not too late for ONE episode of House of Cards with the hubs. TTFN. Next time, we're going to talk about Season 4 of House of Cards, so catch up! I'm on episode 8.