it's a fine line between sanity and donuts and beer for breakfast.

Caution:  Ranty pity-party post ahead.  (It's not solving world peace or international hunger.)

Here are a few sucky things that have made my life not-funny lately .  Instead of continuing to avoid my blog like the plague, I have decided to embrace the suckiness and write about it. 

1.  I have a four year old who talks incessantly.  That is:  without ceasing.  Ever.  Except when she is asleep.  It has made focusing (on anything) really difficult for me these past few weeks.  Before you leave me a self righteous comment telling me how I should savor these moments and that they don't last long, rest assured - I do.  I am just wanting three seconds of quiet once every 24 hours so that I can fu*king focus on the tasks ahead.   That's all.   Don't judge.  (It is my blog.)

Indeed, sometimes I feel guilty for telling her, "Can you please stop talking for three seconds?  Mommy just needs to do this." 

My guilt lasts approximately as long as it takes her to start talking again.  So, usually about the three seconds I asked for.

So that you can experience the full extent of idiocracy that's happening over here, I give you a few of her nonsensical babbles from the past few days. 

a.  (This one happened in the middle of the night, so basically I was a captive audience.)  MOMMY I HAD A NIGHTMARE ABOUT MY LITTLE PONIES.  Except they weren't LITTLE.  They were gigantic and SCARY.  Even Princess Celestia.  She was a scary, gigantic, not little pony.  Can I sleep with you now?

b.  Mom, how old are princesses?  I think about four or eighty?  Do you think that's how old they are?  Except for Brave.  I think she's 20.  But, she wasn't married was she?  Mom, was Brave married?  When I'm 20 I am going to be married.

c.  Mom, I am going to live with you forever.  Okay?  And then I'm going to have four kids.  Two boys and two girls.  And then I am going to have a boyfriend.  And then I am going to have a dog.  And maybe one cat.  But, cats don't like kids, right?  Or do they?  So, maybe I guess I'm not going to have kids.

d.  I drew a picture of Snow White.  But, I didn't know how to make her dress, so I just made her smile look like Snow White's. 

e.  Sometimes she sings her babble.  At the top of her lungs.  If you're shiny and you know it, CLAP YOUR HANDS!  If you're shiny and you know it, CLAP YOUR HANDS!  If you're shiny and you know it........................THEN YOUR FACE WILL SURELY SHOW IT!  If you're shiny and you know it, clap your hands!

f.  She is currently obsessed with all the princesses.  Mom, Snow White has two smiles, right?  One like this (she does a maniac smile)?  And then one like this (she does another slightly more maniac smile)?

g.  Mom, when is the mummy going to go to bed?  (We have a mummy in our living room right now.  Since he can't be left out in the elements, after our epic Halloween party we put him in the kitchen.  But hubby kept getting startled by him and threatened to knock his teeth out.  So, for mummy's sake - I had hubby move him to the living room so that he's looking out the window.)

Do you kinda see how this *was* funny about the first three years and that now it's just making me grow weary (and old)? 

2.  I am not Mother of the Year.  I have known this since my oldest was about a week old.  I will be the first to admit my parenting faults.  Short list:

a.  I am inconsistent to the point of being consistent in my inconsistency.
b.  I am impatient.
c.  I scream.  And sometimes I throw fits.
d.  I am sarcastic.  Sometimes caustically.

So, it should be no surprise that my kids are screwed up.  Usually, though, it's no more so than I myself am screwed up (so, not too bad).  Until this school year.  It's like my family has some sort of super bug which affects their emotions so that all they can do is throw raging fits of lunacy.  And apparently there is no known cure for this super bug.  Believe me I've searched and tried everything known to man.  I have even sunk so low as to read A Parenting Book.  Or two.  Blech.  They didn't help much.  Surprise!

Seriously.  The constant fits by various family members (myself included) have made me weary.  And old.

Don't worry.  This is not a "call for help."  I've already done that.  One of us, and possibly all of us, is going into therapy/counseling/head shrinking/boot camp with a professional as soon as I can iron out the details (which I will be able to do once the four year old gives me three seconds of silence). 

Did I mention I was overtly sarcastic?  You will undoubtedly read more about this in the posts to come.  Or you won't because we will all be hauled away to the loony farm.  In that case, I'll try to sneak in my laptop to keep you up-to-date.

3.  I like to fool around mindlessly on Facebook leaving (what I think) are witty and self-deprecating comments and posts all over and laughing incessantly at my own (hilarious) jokes.  Since I don't have cable, Facebook is kind of like TLC for me.  The problem is Facebook has turned into a sickeningly vicious political platform that makes me want to vomit inside my mouth (and outside of it) every time I login.  The impact this has had on my attitude and spare time (read:  time I spend procrastinating) is pathetic and painful at the same time.  Pathetic because I am ready to lose it over the next person who invites me to "friend" Mittens and painful because I feel like I have lost my BFF (which - like a vicious circle - is so pathetic).  It has all made me weary and old and I am desperate for this political season to be over so that I can go back to having some good, old fashioned, harmless fun with my old BFF, Facebook.  Oh, and so I can get through one fu*king meal without the phone ringing.  Thank you, Robocallers.

4.  I am going through some sort of mid-life crisis (brought about - or at least sped up - by numbers 1-3) which has caused me to become painfully aware of the fact that I am 39+ years old and I still don't know what the hell I am going to do when I grow up.  My fear of growing old alone is becoming more and more vivid.  So much so that the other day I found myself saying to someone, "Naw.  I really don't want to live much past 70."  Then later I thought, "JESUS, Mary and Joseph???  Did I say 70???  That's like 20 years away!  What the heck am I doing sitting around here???"

5.  After successfully losing a lot of "baby fat" I had hanging around, really toning up, and changing a lot of my disgustingly immature eating habits, the first day of slightly cooler weather came and I find myself eating like I am going into hibernation and avoiding exercise in order to save my strength for spring.  Sadly, my daily mantra has become, "I am not a bear."

I warned you it was not pretty.  I hope my next post will be about how I have discovered the cure for raging lunatic fits and that I am back to healthy living.  But, just typing that right now makes me want to eat a donut and wash it down with a beer.  Have a great weekend.  I am going to try and retain my personal sanity and keep my family out of the sanatorium. 

He's the guy in my living room.  I call him Fred.  I *kinda* wanna feed him a sandwich.