GREY MATTER LIFE

I dropped my entire large coffee all over myself in the school parking lot while talking to a friend this morning. I’d like to totally blame it on the daily joys of living with my piece of shit brain tumor, but today I say it’s more because I need to get the hell out of here!

Paul will be home for 36 hours again this weekend. Not nearly enough and I’m over bitching about it all and keep muttering my mantra of “It is what it is.” By the way, my mantra works for both brain tumors and for when your spouse lives and works 8 hours away.

The flood. But that’s old news by our standards.

Adventures with Elmer’s glue.

Discovered the day after the flood after leaving my boys unattended for 5 minutes while I talked with my neighbor in the yard and thanked him for helping me for said flood. In puddles all over a sink of dirty dishes, running down the cabinets, across the floor, down the counter and on top of Tank’s head; it was a damn Glue Explosion.

Evenings have been spent watching mindless TV, drinking wine and picking dried bits of glue off Tanks head. Since I haven’t found a moment to give the poor dog a proper bath, his stylized Mohawk is starting to fade as are the random glue dots I discover everyday when I scrub the counters.

The de-humidifiers put out so much heat upstairs that by the end of the day the thermostats register 80 degrees and the kids are sweatin’ like hogs and I fear the upstairs AC unit might croak from the stress of trying to keep it cool.  But at least we are dry. For now.

I got an email this week from a very brave mom in Tucker’s second grade class confessing that her son has lice. She wanted us to know since unless there are 2 or more cases in the class the school will not inform us. She shared info about the private company that came to her house to rid her son and clean her house, just in case we all needed it. Oh, the Joy! Christmas has come early again this year folks! Commence my breakdown if we get it.   

I haven’t stopped itching and feeling like bugs are crawling all over me and haven’t stopped checking the boys heads every twenty minutes since I read her email. Tucker keeps telling me that he “has no flies” it his head and I’ve lost all energy to even bother correcting him.

I’m pretty confident I’ve already covered my sitter’s college slush fund since Paul’s been working in Florida. The way I figure it, 10% of the money coming out of my wallet’s been for “Date Nights” with Paul and the rest has been Meetings, Meetings, Meetings… playing volunteer has become rather costly these days.

My new ergonomic exercise ball office chair suddenly lost a significant amount of air a few days ago  (wonder how???) and the pump, which the boys borrowed to fight aliens and promised to return, is nowhere to be found. The bike tire pump is missing too, so I’m sitting a few inches shorter while I work and it’s rather annoying to say the least.  

I can’t shake the creepy crawly feeling… damn lice news.

I’ve decided that I’m able to address too many employees at Costco by their first name.

Tucker’s had an array of substitute teachers for four weeks straight since his teacher has been on leave since the first 5 days of school. Let’s just say it’s done nothing for his love for school or gaining ground in reading (challenging due to his learning disability – read here) and my patience for all of it. We’ve got a lot of ground to make up. Enough said.

I am beyond over hearing about every product that the boys see advertised on TV. Such as … “Mommy… you should get Oxy Clean, our clothes would be brighter and cleaner. You really should get it.”

Thanks. Maybe you can all help me fold the 8 loads of  ‘not clean enough’  laundry that’s created its own public art exhibit on our dining room table?

The boys keep asking if we can buy an RV. Where we’ll put it is still undecided.

“It would be so much fun Mommy! We can watch TV, have a kitchen where you can cook for us, and we can go places!” They have a list of where we need to go too… “Arizona to see Sarah and Brian”; “New York City to see Jared and Stephanie but BOO Yankees!”; Boston to see the Red Sox and Big Papi!”; “Chicago to see your cousin Brian”; “North Carolina to see Grammy”; Florida to see Daddy, but we don’t want to see any alligators or snakes”; “Los Angeles to see your cousin Terry and his family… You know Mommy, the one whose the Police Officer?”  …and the litany goes on and on.

Yeah… we’ll plan trips once I get all the calendars coordinated and Daddy takes time off. But I get dibs on the first trip, preferably with just Daddy. But let’s not get too picky, I’d settle on being solo at a destination where phones, computers, suburban psycho soccer moms and homework to help with don’t exist but good food and drink are a plenty! Ahhhhh

Who am I kidding… we’ll be in an RV before any of my pipe dream vacation ideas come to fruition. Frankly, it’s more likely you’ll find me in a tent in my back yard with a wine fridge plugged in with an extension cord next to the fire pit and a take out order from my favorite Thai restaurant.  

There is so much more, but why bore you with my bitching.

So, I’m heading to The City in 178.5 hours. But, who’s counting? That’s New York City if you weren’t sure.

Staying with awesome friends in Chelsea, I’ve already expressed my willingness to sleep in their tub if they run out of room.  It’s pathetic the lengths I’m willing to go to in my efforts to get away.

I have no plan for my visit. I like no plan. In addition to what I can only imagine will be four days filled with roaming the city, taking photos, eating, drinking, laughing and then laughing more, not calling home or answering my phone or checking emails, and getting giddy from my freedom from IT ALL, I’ll also be riding a bike around Manhattan for 30 miles in support of research for Multiple Sclerosis.

In support of a dear friend, who has battled MS for about 11 years, it’ll be an incredible opportunity to not only support her cause but ride throughout the city unimpeded. What a morning next Sunday will be!

T-minus 178.5 hours and counting. Watch out!