It's Ginsu Fun...But Wait! There's More!

Okay, so I have a third child for the time being.  No...not Matt.  He's the fourth. 

One of my daycare moms had/has to be hospitalized and I have her son indefinitely.  The really great part about all this is that I have to lie to him and tell him his mom is at work.  I freaking hate lying to kids.  I realize I'm doing it at the behest of his mother, but still. 

My children are thrilled to have him here.  This means school night sleepovers which in turn means crabbyass children who don't get enough sleep. 

Le sigh...

Please just shoot me.

Isn't Spring Break over, yet?  There are currently ten children in my house. 

Killian, Corwin, Isaac, Torin, B, Syd Vicious, Jess, Emily, Audrey and Madeline.  Best of all, Emily and Madeline are recovering from having their tonsils out and Torin is being a pouty little twerp because I dared to repremand him.  6pm  can't come a moment too soon. 

Yes...I know I brought this chaos on myself.

EDIT:  ARRRGGGHHH!  I almost forgot.  Guess what I woke up to Sunday morning?  It was Matt.  Pissing me off.  He had been a total rat-bastard, Saturday night, and I asked if he was in a better mood.  This conversation digressed into the following.

Matt:  You know, Michele stays home and writes all day and her house doesn't look like ass.

Me:  Excusfucking me?

Matt:  Well, I'm just saying.  Her house is really clean and she still manages to write.

Stand back ladies, he's all mine. 

Through the grace of God, I managed not to kill him.  But if there's any pissing and moaning about the state of our house that's had ten kids between the ages of 6 and 13 all day, you may be visiting me in the county lockup.

Guess what?

I have news of the delightful sort. 

I queried five agents at the beginning of the week on my erotica manuscript and I heard back from two of them yesterday.  One wants a partial and the other wants the full!!!!!  SQUEEEEEEE

Wanna know what sucks?

A husband who has the same plague you had for two hellish weeks.

Wanna know what sucks worse?

Dropping your contact down the drain at one am and having to wake up said plaguey husband to take the drain apart so he can fish the damn thing out cause you don't have a spare 480$ to order a new freaking set of contacts.

Wanna know what doesn't suck?

A husband, who even though you've woken him from a dead sleep, stumbles downstairs and takes the drain apart, rescues your contact and puts the whole thing back together without bitching once.  I didn't even get the look.

Sometimes it really is the little things.

Sometimes I worry about my subconscious...

Okay so I had this freakyass dream this morning.  It involved Jeff stealing ugly unicorn Christmas tree ornaments I'd packed away for Jen.  When I was in the process of stealing them back, I realized I had to go to the bathroom. 

So I left this strange sort of packing pavillion/Tiki hut and walked across the parking lot to this big hotel.  Jeff had convinced all of the bellmen not to let me in, because I was a dangerous terroist, so I had to walk three miles to some mansion that was closed for renovations.  And locked.  Then I slid down this ginormous, muddy hill and found a 1950s type department store so I went in to use the bathroom. 

Unfortunately, the women's bathroom was in the basement, and to get there I had to slide down this slide.  I figured I'd be down there in a couple of turns, but the damn slide went on forever - and while on it, I managed to defy gravity several times. 

So I finally get down there, and none of the toilets are shaped like toilets.  They were all very ornate versions of other things, antique cash register, sewing machine, arm chair, bookcase etc.  I peed on the one shaped like a Victroian era stove.

I woke up and told Matt about the dream.  His response was "Huh.  There's symbolism for you."

And I wonder why he thinks supper's ready when the smoke alarm goes off.