Hurricanes and this election – both come into town, destroy some shit and leave us to pick up the pieces. While I think I’d rather take my chances with a hurricane than Trump, the two do have a few other things in common.
Halloween is over, which evidently means it’s past time to start talking about Christmas. It’s also still November, which is Prematurity Awareness Month. I decided to combine the two.
I know you’ve all be waiting to hear about our Halloween costumes this year. Are your F5 fingers tired from all the refreshing?
When something shitty happens, it is inevitable that someone is going to tell you to be grateful for whatever is less than shitty. I get it, I do. My imaginary memoir is titled, “Well, It Could Have Been Worse….” But sometimes I just want to wallow a little bit in the unfairness of things that are, well, unfuckingfair.
6:15am: My alarm goes off.
I slowly and carefully extract myself from the bed, careful not to wake the toddler who has almost certainly ended up velcroed to my nipple at some point in the night. I tiptoe out of the room, stepping gingerly over the sleeping dog, who is blessedly deaf and does not notice what she does not feel.
Embarrassing our children — Not just for human kids anymore.
We get Squirt shaved once a year or so, but normally if we are going to get Maya groomed it’s just a bath and brush out. But because I am not capable of caring for the number of living beings in my house, she had gotten matted without me realizing how bad it was in a couple of areas. So this happened. She is so fucking embarrassed.
There are times when the fact that my backyard is a giant downward slope is annoying. When I am offered a free motorized toddler car, but know it would never make it back up the hill. When I want to set up a kiddie pool on flat ground. When trying to build garden boxes. When the garage at the bottom of the yard floods.