Attitude Tuesday

Today I mixed up some get better bubbles for the Ridgeland fair. I have been trying to get a ton of stuff made so I can sell on parade day either on my parent's lawn (where I would prefer to be), or getting a table at the community center, where I will miss out on the parade and all the kids freaking out over candy...back in the day a parade was boring. I could take it or leave it. I guess having kids changes all that :) Dean will be driving dad's tractor and pulling the wagon. We are pooling money together as a family to have a couple 3-4 pails full of candy to throw. Now we just need riders for the wagon. Anyone?




Wait. What was I talking about? Oh yeah. So these bubbles smell like chai or cake, or bread pudding or something cinovanilla. I don't like them. On the bright side, I gave Emma her very own bottle of chai bubbles and she learned to blow them all by herself (Thank GOD). That feat is right up there with learning how to walk (no longer having to carry them), learning how to bite off their food and chew (no longer having to cut it up and piss with it), and full blown, unassisted potty training complete with shitty butt-wiping skills (enough said).



I am just tired today. I am trying to be all chipper, but I am just beat to the ground. I burned my fingers while welding because I was mentally drained and tired and just got generally irritated as hell. Now I'm sitting here thinking I should just go to bed. Dean finally came home from hanging with his friends and now he is limping around whining about his leg and making irritating grunty-gaspy noises with every step. Yes, yes, it was gross. Yes, yes it hurt like hell, but you soooooo need to get over it now. Shut up, sit down and quit breathing at me. I'm pretty sure my lack of sympathy is because I am so very tired having had dealt with bill collectors and bank people most of my day, power typing in between all the faxing and arguing and panic attacks and trying to get at least one thing welded before relaxing for the night. It was when Emma poked me in the back with a piece of round stock that I grabbed the red glowing rod that I had just welded with my ungloved hand. Maybe I'm irritated because I have an owie of my own to nurse and the only one I've whined to about it is my blog. I have the I'm-the-mama-no-one-cares-about-me-unless-I'm-cooking-or-cleaning-blues. I'll resume my duties tomorrow, possibly my I-give-a-shit-o-meter will be recharged by then.

Dean just informed me, with that I'm-the-boss-asshole teenager voice I despise, that he will be MAKING the doctor take the little piece of metal that was left in his leg when we go in the morning. This was further punctuated by his wagging his finger at me and don't-you-stand-in-my-way eyes. Like its all my fault they decided to leave it after explaining that it would be more trauma than necessary to attempt to remove. By all means, rip that shit open and dig that thing out if it will make the kid happy. I'll remove it right the hell now if he continues to throw up his attitude.



Yep. Going to bed right now.