Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Train of thought

The hardest thing for me to do with this blog is just write whatever happens to be stuck in my head. I'm a trained writer. A piece has to have a clear beginning, middle and end and make sense the whole way through. But that is so not how my brain works.

The hubby has long since given up asking how I get from point A to point B in a conversation. It all makes sense to me. What, not everyone one can connect laundry to that one time in college at that party? Huh. C'mon, keep up with me people. 

So I am jumping out of my comfort zone and going to try to just drain my brain onto this page today. Because I don't have a coherent story to tell and my one fan will give me an earful if she can't read my blog today. That or she might spray paint my van pink and green. It's a toss-up.

Here we go.

My 3.5 year old threw the mother of all tantrums (again) while trying to get his hair cut. I wished I had a roll of duct tape but settled for using a death grip with him on my lap. Obviously this renewed fear of haircuts means I am a horrible mother and have no control. Seriously, I'm pretty sure at least one of those is true. 

At the same time, he has played nicely with his sister for the last hour. I think I must have driven into the Twilight Zone on my way home.

The hubby wants a boat. Well, that's not really new, but he's actually put a bid on a sailboat on eBay. With my blessing. I am hoping that a hubby who runs off to sail on weekends is better than a hubby who pouts and moans because he can't go sailing on weekends. It's apparently light enough to go on top of my van (no trailer required) and store hanging somewhere in our garage. Now if I just knew where that cash was going to come from, besides our birthday/Christmas gift fund...

I am more excited about the book the hubby's grandma sent me for my birthday than the gift card from his parents to buy clothes. Because I am sure the book fits. The clothes I'd have to try on may not have a very friendly number on them, and that's just depressing. 

So on that note, I dragged the monsters out on a walk with a friend and her daughter this morning. I spent the entire 30 min huffing and puffing, all while telling little man to stop whining, get back on his bike, go faster, and no we're not done yet. Next time we walk while he's at school. And I'm gonna make her talk, so I don't sound like the out of shape asthmatic that I am. I think she knows better, but I have to pretend.

And in honor of National Coffee Day, I am having another cup. Pumpkin Spice. I may need a 12-step program when Starbucks stops offering Pumpkin Spice Lattes. It won't be pretty.


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