It's a tear my hair out day.

Starting Tuesday Jay's pretty much been wrapped up in this insane conference his company's been doing and so he's been a ghost. Last night I don't know what time he came in. He says 2:30. My experience has been to add anywhere from 30 to 60 minutes to his answers. I guess the difference this time is that I am PMSing HARD and really I'm just not in the mood to be Single Mom. My house is beyond words disgusting. I mean seriously, you guys should see the leaning tower of clothes in my room. How it's still standing is beyond me but it's spilling onto the dresser and spreading all over the floor. There is crap EVERYWHERE. And the dishes have been untouched since Sunday night I'm pretty sure. So finally I got tired of the stink and shoved everything into the dishwasher. And I just can't will myself to do ANYTHING. I'm really shocked I did the dishwasher thing. I'm pretty sure my grandmother and mother think I'm either very ill, pregnant, or severely depressed because they keep checking on me and I know pity when I see it tattooed on your forehead.

I hate that.

Hate's a strong word. I really don't like that.

This week, I have also been really scatter-brained. I mean it's really in a bad way. I just can't focus on anything. I'm a mess at work and I've had to do the whole tunnel vision thing and go Man-Brain because every multi-tasking attempt on my end has been epic fail.

Burned out is an understatement.

And I'm really distracted by photography all of a sudden. It's strange. It kind of came out of nowhere although I'm sure it came from somewhere!

The thing that has me most distracted is Ethan. He's been having these insane spells of stomach pain since about the end of January. And all they've been able to say so far is "Constipation!" but I just don't buy that. Today I just got so worked up about it I really almost did go across the street to the Children's Hospital. We went there in February. This time I was ready. I was gonna say, "My baby's sick and I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong with him and so help me if you tell me it's a cold because you are an overpaid snotty LIAR" I sweartogawd THIS close.

Instead I called the pediatrician's office and they were just closing up and the poor girl who answered my phone call kinda freaked out when I told her what had been going on and I think she could tell that I was really close to crying and she told me to bring him in first thing tomorrow morning so the doctor and I could work a new plan of action.

I don't understand why these things take DAYS or WEEKS. My baby is in PAIN. PAIN. Not uncomfortable. Not cranky. He's in freaking hardcore ohmygod face turns red PAIN. I videotaped an episode of it last night. Because I just don't think they believe me. Or that they understand me. It's hard to watch.

I feel really defeated today. Like if I was in a boxing match and the round just ended and I'd be in my corner I'd be telling my Coach that look really I'm done with this fight. Next fist that makes contact, I'm hitting that mat and I'm not waking up until tomorrow. Or maybe next week.

Last time I went to the psychologist she asked me again if I wasn't interested in some medication to even me out.

No thank you.

But maybe... no. No thank you.

They are so magical aren't they? God their skin is unlike anything else. And their hair is this delicious softness that you wish they could replicate for pillows. Or blankets. The way they fit so perfectly against your body. They're not long and dangly yet. Just perfectly sized. And they're smooshy with baby fat. Oh those cheeks. Oh those lips. Oh those lashes. Oh that nose. The quick and small breaths. The tenderness. And the fleetingness of it all. The startling fact that on the grand scale of life this stage is like a grain of rice. That warmth. That fierce love and protectiveness. The genuine and grand wishes of all the happiness in the world. The wonderment of it all. Where will you go? What will you do? What will you say? Who will you love along the way? The smell. That which each breath you inhale their softness. It's in the smell. I swear to you it is. I don't get to relish a sleeping baby much. It goes with the whole thing that as nice as it is, I think babies sleep better in cribs once they've gone to the appropriate no more night feeding stage. And my experience has been that they like it a lot and as much as they'd like to sleep on you they just don't do as hot. They squirm a lot trying to get comfy because this body of yours it's not THEIR bed. But every now and then, for just a few minutes, I get a really sleepy and snuggly baby in my arms and on my body. And I pay so much attention to the moment that it brings tears to my eyes. Every time. Swear.

My babies, my life. So simple.

DUCK HUNT

Every once in a while you come across an artist that just shakes your soul.

For right now, for me it's Lisa Yuskavage.

Get acquainted. You won't regret it.

At the last minute today Jay called and told me something had come up and instead of taking his night off tomorrow as usual he was going to do it today so he could meet his friends and have a couple of drinks.

At first I was irritated but it got better after some useless rummaging through the internet.

My grandmother showed up at my door with arroz con pollo for me and the kids. I love living next door to abuela!

As the kids and I ate, I realized how early it was and so we laid out a plan. If we all ate really fast, and they got in the bath really fast, and we got them all washed up, we could all climb into Mommy's bed and eat ice cream and watch a movie. Boy did they LOVE that idea.

So we did just that. I love snuggling with the two big ones. The little one sleeps through all of this by the way.

And just now, after I tucked them into bed and spent some time on the internet with emails, I heard my daughter softly singing Twinkle Twinkle little star. And I went and got my new camera that has a voice recorder and by the time I came back she'd stopped and moved on to other melodies that I can't recognize and I'm sure one might be made up. And I sat outside their room and listened and recorded a small soundbite and relished in my melting heart.

One of my favoritest things about being on birth control like NuvaRing is how much more aware I become of my cycle and associated mood swings. I'm not a big-time PMSer but I do notice increased anxiety, increased emotional reactions, and decreased patience with myself and others.

I requested last Friday, yesterday, and today off so that I could get my house under control. I feel like I've never had any house completely under control. We've always moved in during frenzied times like final trimesters of pregnancies and so many things just slip through the cracks. So here in this house that I love I have been growing insanely frustrated with the fact I just haven't been able to get it under a manageable system.This despite the fact my husband is springing for a very nice lady to come and clean every other Wednesday. So that was my intention several weeks ago when I giddily placed my vacation request. Well, not so much Friday. Friday was a field trip with Sadie's daycare to go the circus. But the rest, for sure. And then I realized just a week before my vacation was coming that Monday was Martin Luther King Day and not only was Mario's school closed, but the daycare as well.

Now, I have been hacking away at the house every extra minute I have found myself. So I figured it was a good thing that I would be able to have a day with the kids. And what a day it was. Lots of fun and I even managed to wash every piece of dirty laundry in the house (ten loads- 3 on Sunday and 7 on Monday), fold 95% of it (I'd forgotten the one impromptu) load in the dryer, and put away 75% of it (the baby was sleeping so his clothes is still waiting and Jay puts away his clothes).

This morning I found it incredibly hard to get out of bed. And so I didn't until almost 11 in the morning. And when I did, I went into the playroom and moved every bin and almost every box into the living room and got to work watching the innauguration. It went by surprisingly fast though I'm kicking myself for forgetting the big plastic toy box. One garbage bag of trash and one garbage bag of donations. I rearranged some of the furniture and picked it all up. Well most of it. I decided I couldn't take being in the house anymore and slipped out for a couple of hours then went to get the kids at daycare.

So, the POINT is that not too long ago I was in the living room and I was taking in the scattered odds and ends from the play room that I was yet to put away. And the dining table that is covered on one half in complete clutter and paper and the horrible book shelf that leans precariously back and forth and I swore I'd empty. And I just got so  upset at myself. And so frustrated that I didn't have any type of control over anything not even my little tiny house and I felt myself getting teary and it annoyed me! And like a damn lightning bolt, I realized I'm pretty sure I have to take the NuvaRing out this Friday. Which means that I'd be getting my period this weekend or early next week. Which means I'm PMSing. My torn cuticles and nails further attest to the fact. But that realization was so important. Now I have to cling to that for the rest of the week because the most harmful thing for me is to feel I am losing control of myself and by realizing this cyclical movement, I am back in control. I'm able to see it's not that I'm losing control it's that my hormones are playing with me.

And no I'm not talking about the inauguration tomorrow like everyone else.

It was earlier this afternoon. I stayed home from work today with the kids. I have been doing laundry ALL day.

I had finished folding a load in time for the other one to buzz that it was ready and as I walked to the laundry room, I passed by Sadie.

My petite super cute mischeivous as hell two year old daughter was flattened against a wall holding a Star Wars blaster gun clearly hunting someone or something down. It amused me and I went on to the laundry room. As I was dumping hot clothes into the basket I hear a crash from the dining room Sadie was in two seconds ago.

And then I hear my super cute mischeivous as hell two year old daughter exclaim, "Aw shit!"

And then she called out, "Mom! "MOOOOM!"

And it suddenly dawned on me that I was cringing but I wasn't sure if I was cringing because there might very well be a broken mess in the dining room I'd need to clean up, or because my darling daughter had just exclaimed "Aw shit!" in a fashion that was too familiar for my own comfort, or because the way she was calling me sounded much more like a twelve year old than a two year old and it hurt my heart so much.

As for the mess, it turned out to be nothing more than an overturned bag of golf clubs. As for "Aw shit!" I promptly corrected her, "Aw shOOT!". And as for "MOM!" it really broke my heart and made me yearn for the days that I swear weren't that long ago when she'd call me "mama!" in a way that really completely melted my soul.

Alive

Brainy

Creative

Dangerous

Easy

Foolish

Glad

Hispanic

Intelligent

Joker

Kisser

Lover

Mistress

Naughty

Overworked

Power-hungry

Queen

Resistant

Sexy

Tease

Unstable

Vivacious

Worker

Xtreme

Young

Zeal

1. Get a belly I'm proud of.
2. Put up the fence in the yard.
3. Get artwork for the dining room.
4. Try corsetting.
5. Cook at least once a week.
6. Make working out part of my life.
7. See a counselor.
8. Work shit out with my husband one way or another.
9. Get my credit cards down to zero with the snowball method.
10. Resolve the house issue.
11. Plant (and maintain) a garden.

Work in progress...