I tell ya, sometimes it doesn't pay to get out of bed in the morning.
I got NO sleep last night due to a puking child. I thought I might catch a few winks during the DVD presentation this morning...but you can guess what happens when your attention is anywhere else but on said puking child.
The other day I discovered the cat has been using the upstairs closet as his own personal bathroom. So today I decide to clean it, since the husband, supposedly in charge of all things cat-related, has simply decided the best way to deal with this problem (of which he has been aware for some time) is to ignore it. Found cat pee on the garment bag that holds my wedding dress...and on the dress itself. So I attempted to wash the cat pee out of the dress...using the shower rod to hold the dress up while I worked on it. The shower rod came crashing down on my head with all five/ten pounds of dress. There is now a lump on the top of my head.
I took the foster dog, Orbit, out for his constitutional. He zigged when I zagged and the end result was that we accidentally moved the satellite dish (a LOT)...So now there is no tv for puking child. I could hear him scream from outside..."MOOOMMMMYYYYYY!!!" I called the DirectTV guy...Kyle. After asking me if I was SURE the dish had moved, he went on to be absolutely un-reassuring. (Uh, yeah, I'm sure it moved...I watched it damn near fly off the post ya genius...I was standing right there...in fact, it's MY FAULT). He said I could have a technician come out (how much will that cost?) or I could try to fix it myself. I asked how hard it was to fix myself and he said, "I can be VERY difficult...you have to have a screwdriver to loosen it and then you have to adjust it just right." Oh my God...a SCREWDRIVER?!?! Whatever will I do? I'm not sure I can handle THAT!
So what does any good mother do? Attempts to fix it, of course. Ten frozen fingers and ten frozen toes later there is still no tv for the poor sick child.
I just got done breaking up a dog fight...over a bone. While putting the dogs in their respective crates, I see that one dog has THREE bones all to himself. Selfish little bastard.
Do you ever feel cursed? I mean truly cursed? I know people joke about Murphy's Law and whatnot, but I'm having a very hard time fighting the urge to curl up in a ball and just cry myself to sleep. I used to have a tolerance for this sort of day. In fact, I used to be able to look at days like this and laugh. Now I just feel like someone keeps adding weights to my side of the scale...just testing me to see how much I can take before I snap completely.
I think I might just round out this perfect day by going and working on our holiday letter. I'm depressed...I might as well depress everyone else too.
While working on our holiday letter, the cat stood at the top of the wooden staircase and threw his empty bowl down, hitting my sister's wedding picture on the wall and sending it crashing down to the bottom. Yes this is the same cat that has a pee problem. I've tried finding another home for him, but nobody wants him...and Sam is desperately in love with him. What's an over-tired mom to do?