Whoa-As-Me
My first blog after weeks of silence is all about how hard my life is. I mean- for real y'all. I got troubles (please read this with the satire, I intend it to be!). But first- girls are so different than boys. Or maybe, my girl is different from my boy. That's probably a more accurate statement. See here's what happened:
Alexa and I had a squabble this morning. The black skirt she wore on Monday, wasn't clean yet (I know- what the heck?!!! A whole day and some later, and I didn't have it washed?! What's wrong with me?????) Well . . . she's had a fashion crisis every morning for the last week. I decided it was Doug's turn to deal with it- because if I had to take a guess, he doesn't even know it's been going on. (how can he not know? Well, at the new house we have a split bedroom plan- so while he's getting ready in the morning, Alexa is clear on the other side of the house pouting/whining/ carrying on about not having clothes to wear- and he's oblivious to what Andrew and I have the "pleasure" of listening to). I have completely ignored the fashion crisis. The way I see it is if I wait long enough- she'll figure out what to wear, and I don't have to get involved. That plan has worked every day . . . except today. Doug tried to find the black skirt, but discovered it was in the dirty laundry. None of his suggestions for alternate outfits were good, and Alexa decided to lay on her floor and cry. He tagged out and it was my turn to deal with it. I ignored it. Eventually she came out, still in her nightgown, but was calm. She ate breakfast. I fixed her hair. Then I said, "If you're riding with me, you better get dressed because I'm leaving in a minute." Well . . . she melted down and hard a hard time gathering herself. I melted down and also had a hard time gathering myself. I said things to the effect of, "Ain't nobody got time for this. You're choices have made your morning cruddy and are making mine cruddy too! Tomorrow I will send you to school in your pajamas, and your principal can deal with you!"
Now- Andrew and I have had a fashion tangle a time or two in the past and usually by the afternoon he will be ready to move on from the morning. Alexa . . . not so much. She's still harboring some ill feelings towards me. I'm okay with that, because I understand. I wasn't patient or kind. However in my defense. I had been awake since 3:30am. See the dog has been stressed by moving- so stressed she has apparently developed a UTI. She woke me up in the middle of the night panting. Thinking she was hot- I moved to the living room, so she would lay down on the hardwood floors, which are cooler than the carpet. Instead she paced into Andrew's room. I thought that was weird, so I went back there and immediately realized . . . she's peed in here, somewhere. I got a flashlight, cloths, spray, and cleaned it up. I went back to bed, but then I couldn't sleep. Doug was snoring, the dog was panting. I got up. I fell asleep for 10 minutes before my alarm went off.
When I got home, it became apparent that something is definitely not right with my dog, as she peed 6 times (or tried to) on her 10 minute walk. yeah. I need to get Flex Benefits for my dog. I take her to the doctor more than anyone else in the family, and she takes more daily medication than my entire family put together, and it costs more than my family too. (Arthritis is a stinker- but the medicine makes a HUGE difference).
I realized, I needed to water my pansies. They looked a bit peak-ed. Alexa and I both tried and . . . the hose won't come on. What in the doggone, blue, hades is going on?!!! It's probably the contractors who came to bury our cable line. They must have somehow messed up the hose or the water pipe there. The water works in the rest of the house . . . just not at that spigot. Gahh! How annoying. I went to the other spigot, filled up my watering can, and watered the pansies. My pants got wet. Now I have wet pants, and dirt in my shoe. Whatever. It's fine. I'm starving. I need to put the groceries I picked up on the way home, away. I fixed a snack. And thought . . . if this is my hard day, how do women who live in Afghanistan or the Amazon rain forest or with children with disabilities, or husbands who are abusive, with no modern conveniences, or where violence is an everyday part of their life- deal with these little piddly aggravations- which are over exaggerated because I had one night with not enough sleep. I mean- these are my problems?? I have no problems. A hose not working, to water some flowers, so I walked a few extra feet and filled up a watering can . . . that's not a problem. I got to come inside and eat a snack. Not just some lame snack, but a good one (half of a pumpkin spice bagel with nutella). I'm going to fix my family dinner because I had enough money to buy groceries. I have no problems.
So . . . I'll suck up my day of frustations, I'll apologize to my girl because I was wrong and I'll fix my family dinner- and maybe take a quick 10 minute nap to get me through the night.
Alexa and I had a squabble this morning. The black skirt she wore on Monday, wasn't clean yet (I know- what the heck?!!! A whole day and some later, and I didn't have it washed?! What's wrong with me?????) Well . . . she's had a fashion crisis every morning for the last week. I decided it was Doug's turn to deal with it- because if I had to take a guess, he doesn't even know it's been going on. (how can he not know? Well, at the new house we have a split bedroom plan- so while he's getting ready in the morning, Alexa is clear on the other side of the house pouting/whining/ carrying on about not having clothes to wear- and he's oblivious to what Andrew and I have the "pleasure" of listening to). I have completely ignored the fashion crisis. The way I see it is if I wait long enough- she'll figure out what to wear, and I don't have to get involved. That plan has worked every day . . . except today. Doug tried to find the black skirt, but discovered it was in the dirty laundry. None of his suggestions for alternate outfits were good, and Alexa decided to lay on her floor and cry. He tagged out and it was my turn to deal with it. I ignored it. Eventually she came out, still in her nightgown, but was calm. She ate breakfast. I fixed her hair. Then I said, "If you're riding with me, you better get dressed because I'm leaving in a minute." Well . . . she melted down and hard a hard time gathering herself. I melted down and also had a hard time gathering myself. I said things to the effect of, "Ain't nobody got time for this. You're choices have made your morning cruddy and are making mine cruddy too! Tomorrow I will send you to school in your pajamas, and your principal can deal with you!"
Now- Andrew and I have had a fashion tangle a time or two in the past and usually by the afternoon he will be ready to move on from the morning. Alexa . . . not so much. She's still harboring some ill feelings towards me. I'm okay with that, because I understand. I wasn't patient or kind. However in my defense. I had been awake since 3:30am. See the dog has been stressed by moving- so stressed she has apparently developed a UTI. She woke me up in the middle of the night panting. Thinking she was hot- I moved to the living room, so she would lay down on the hardwood floors, which are cooler than the carpet. Instead she paced into Andrew's room. I thought that was weird, so I went back there and immediately realized . . . she's peed in here, somewhere. I got a flashlight, cloths, spray, and cleaned it up. I went back to bed, but then I couldn't sleep. Doug was snoring, the dog was panting. I got up. I fell asleep for 10 minutes before my alarm went off.
When I got home, it became apparent that something is definitely not right with my dog, as she peed 6 times (or tried to) on her 10 minute walk. yeah. I need to get Flex Benefits for my dog. I take her to the doctor more than anyone else in the family, and she takes more daily medication than my entire family put together, and it costs more than my family too. (Arthritis is a stinker- but the medicine makes a HUGE difference).
I realized, I needed to water my pansies. They looked a bit peak-ed. Alexa and I both tried and . . . the hose won't come on. What in the doggone, blue, hades is going on?!!! It's probably the contractors who came to bury our cable line. They must have somehow messed up the hose or the water pipe there. The water works in the rest of the house . . . just not at that spigot. Gahh! How annoying. I went to the other spigot, filled up my watering can, and watered the pansies. My pants got wet. Now I have wet pants, and dirt in my shoe. Whatever. It's fine. I'm starving. I need to put the groceries I picked up on the way home, away. I fixed a snack. And thought . . . if this is my hard day, how do women who live in Afghanistan or the Amazon rain forest or with children with disabilities, or husbands who are abusive, with no modern conveniences, or where violence is an everyday part of their life- deal with these little piddly aggravations- which are over exaggerated because I had one night with not enough sleep. I mean- these are my problems?? I have no problems. A hose not working, to water some flowers, so I walked a few extra feet and filled up a watering can . . . that's not a problem. I got to come inside and eat a snack. Not just some lame snack, but a good one (half of a pumpkin spice bagel with nutella). I'm going to fix my family dinner because I had enough money to buy groceries. I have no problems.
So . . . I'll suck up my day of frustations, I'll apologize to my girl because I was wrong and I'll fix my family dinner- and maybe take a quick 10 minute nap to get me through the night.
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