My children are driving me to drink.
Well, one of them. Baby Z is developing the nasty habit of requiring constant entertainment, especially at bedtime. And when he isn't being entertained, even for the slightest of moments, he is screaming. At the top of his lungs, his tiny little baby lungs, he is screaming. It doesn't matter if I have laid him down because rocking him for hours has given me a cramp in my shoulder or if I have to pee or even if the freaking house is burning down. The entertainment must continue or my ears (and my sanity) will pay the price.
And so now, with a sleeping baby (and toddler and husband and dog), I am having my second glass of wine. Because my nerves can't take that much screaming. And because I had the points to use up this evening, seeing as my dinner was pretty cold and crappy by the time I got around to eating.
Hallelujah! Holy shit! Where's the Tylenol?
Along the lines of Christmas (since that is one my all-time favorite lines from one of my all-time favorite Christmas movies), it flurried in our neighborhood today. Three words: DE-PRESS-ING. Fall is my favorite season (I mean, when I take the time to venture outside) and it doesn't last nearly long enough (eleven months would be good for me, how's about you?). I came across the Christmas tree decorations when the Bee and I were on a purging spree in the garage last weekend and it took all my willpower not to bring them inside and put up the tree. I love my Christmas tree. I would really love to have it in my living room year-round but the Bee gets pissy if it's up before Thanksgiving and after his birthday. He can be such a fun hater sometimes.
Have you seen this?