Up and At 'Em

Well, I've got the up part right at least. I'm awake. I'm munching on my cereal and giving serious thought to some coffee this morning.

Yesterday was a good day. I got out of the house with my family for a bit and that felt wonderful, even if all we did was go downtown for a bit. I picked up some shampoo from the local natural health store and some incense while hubby sat at the bakery and studied his CNA stuff. Let me tell you, it's fun trying to explore different shampoo options with a three year old boy. I pretty much had to hold him down in a straight jacket sort of way while I scooted along the floor looking reading the various labels on the bottom shelf. Oy - his love of running, knocking things off of shelves, and just being a general pill really gets to me some days. Last night I left the Oxi-clean bucket on the cart in the kitchen while I was working on laundry and my son apparently thought that our dog Wally needed some Oxi-clean in his food container. A good third full food container. So, needless to say, hubby had to run out super early this morning before his CNA class and buy a brand new bag of dog food. And of course like clockwork he comes home with the wrong food...again. Our dog keeps getting switched foods for this reason. *sigh* Do I sound grumpy? I am. I'm grumpy in all of my almost 9 months pregnant glory. Anyways, I started out saying that yesterday was a good day. And it was. I finally got little man's hair cut. He's been needing one for oh, I don't know, a month or so. He was kind of starting to resemble a sheep dog. Poor little man's were hanging down past his eyes and he was getting called a girl left and right. Ummm...oops. So we got his haircut. He got to have chocolate while I cut his hair. He left a big chunk on the floor which I promptly forgot about before I let the dog out to play. So between the chocolate and the Oxi-clean it seems that we're trying to kill off our dog. So I'm really hoping that our dog doesn't develop diarrhea today because all I really need is to have to bend over and clean dog crap out of a crate periodically throughout today. Anyways, back to yesterday. I got loads upon loads of laundry done. See, I was just hoping the rapture would happen and that I wouldn't actually have to do the laundry. Bummer. I probably did 5 or 6 loads yesterday. Now I just need to get them upstairs with the mounds of clean clothes that need to be put away. That's the part of laundry that I never seem to get to, but I'm really tired of digging for clothes. I'm sick of the fact that I've been unable to wear some of my cute maternity clothes because they're too buried in clean clothes upstairs and I can never find what I want to get dressed in the morning. Ugh - I've launched into whining again. Maybe grumpy pregnant people should be banned from blogging! Anyways, my back is currently saying "thank you" to me for all of the bending and reaching that accompanies countless loads of laundry. I have a pile of dishes, at least some of which is going to need to be done if I must feed children all day long. And I must - I expect their parents wouldn't be too happy with me if I decided not to feed them so as not to create more dirty dishes! I did buy paper plates to help me get through hubby's second crazy week of his CNA class, which is causing him to be completely unavailable. I just wish I had thought to buy paper cups. I had a thought last night as I was thinking how overwhelmed I am right now as to how single moms do everything for themselves and children day in and day out and work full-time. All I can say is I'm not worthy and I'd drown in depression I think if I had to try. This place is still difficult to keep up with when hubby is around to lend a hand. But it seems impossible when he's not. But perhaps it's just me - perhaps I haven't learned how to be efficient enough, hardworking enough, or fill in the blank. I don't know. I go back and forth between feeling sorry for my bloaty, achy pregnant self and thinking that I just need to push harder and it would all get done.

All in all, I wish fairy godmothers really existed - the good kind in Cinderella, not the evil wench in Shrek. I'd call her up and with a bit of bippity boppity boo my house would be spotless, the birth basket would be ready, everything would be scrubbed, newborn cloth diapers would be prepped, and I'd be ready to get my birthing on!