I'm Back (Kinda)

It's been a couple of months since I played the blogosphere. Not one to allow the world to have an invitation into my life, I chose silence instead. The shortened version is I recently seperated and moved out with my boys. Life is hard, plugging along, but such is, er, life.

God is good, my resolve is still there, but somedays I feel like throwing in the towel (especiall with a FT school load and clinicals 2x a week, and oh yes there's that professor who likes to mock me for some reason?), but checking out is not an option. Checking in, however, might be. A weekend away with meals, good drugs, and round-the-clock care sounds awesome. No, not thinking of a Hollywood hotel, something more like a mental institution. Why not? I can hold my own with the best of 'em. In fact, I contemplated taking a photo of myself this morning while staggering around on 90 minutes of sleep last night (baby sick, papers, exams), unwashed hair, luggage under the eyes and slurred speech. Either I get the part in the next Oscar contender based on a starlet in rehab, or I get immediate admittance to a loony bin.

Don't care if that's not the right term. This is not the time to chastise me.

Missed you all, I'll be back.


Won't He Ever Stop Talking??

It's my four-year old. I love him desperately. Sometimes he makes me laugh so hard I cry. His chubby cheeks set my heart afire, and his wit makes a mama proud.

But the child won't shut up.

Even when I tell him it's "quiet time for 20 minutes", he'll spend the 20 minutes talking about quiet time. If I let him watch a movie, he'll ask questions about the movie throughout the whole thing. If I don't answer (a pathetic attempt at pretending I don't hear him) he'll shout his questions to me until I do.

He talks nonstop in the car, at the store, while we read books, play at the library, or the park. My boy is a talker. Granted, so am I. But if I don't get a moment of peace soon, I may ship him off to some silent monk preschool I'm sure exists somewhere in this great country. This morning, my girlfriend wrote on her Facebook page that she can't find her two year old daughter's "off button." I'm looking for one over here, too.


What's Your Dream Gift?

As Christmas approaches, we moms are consumed with making sure everyone else gets at least one item on their list, and as usual we probably get bupkis. So let's have a little fun, shall we? Let loose--what's your dream gift? Not what you think you should want, or what you want others to think you want, but what do you really want? It's ok to be shallow, that's what fantasies are for. I'll start:

1) Mommy makeover. Two C-sections and nursing two hungry boys has done an unfortunate number on my tummy and the girls. I'd like to some lift and removal in those areas. Namely, I'd like to wear form-fitting tops and to bra-shop in the pretty section once again. These days, it's all about coverage, support and durability. Ick. Sounds like a cell phone. (Oh, I'm sorry--is this too much information for you? Then get off my blog. You obviously don't belong here.)
2) A cleaning lady. 

3) An agent. At this juncture of my life, it really doesn't matter what kind of an agent. I just want one. Preferably in the publishing/literary arena, but I'm open to all types of applicants. Except Playboy.

4) To understand what my 15-month old is pointing at and screaming for constantly. I have no clue.

5) For my life to finally settle down and for the drama to go away. I want to relax with my boys and worry about little things like grocery lists and co-pays. I want to look forward to tomorrow once again.

6) For people to stop the madness and remember that this is the CHRISTMAS SEASON. Stop yelling at cashiers, stop the dirty looks on the road, stop letting the "stress" of the holidays get the best of you. Don't forget why we celebrate Christmas to begin with.

My Friends: amhico