What to say?

Well, I could talk about suddenly becoming a single-income household.  But that's no fun.


I could talk about the dog, and her incessant swimming at all hours of the day and night, despite our best efforts to keep her out of the pool.


I could even talk about certain of my children and their propensity for bodily emissions.


But no.  I'm going to explain, yet again, how I, yet again, failed to obtain more than 3 hours of continuous sleep.


Offender #1: The Toddler Bed (dun dun duhhhhhnnnnn!)
   Seriously, Thing is so whacked-out excited to have a bid bed that he cannot be placed in it while awake if you want to have the slightest hope of him remaining where you put him.  Unless, of course, you are ME, in which case you thank your lucky stars you were too lazy to disassemble the crib, and just pull the thing over in front of said toddler bed to block the Things' escape.  AND. IT. WORKS.


Offender #2: Peanut-sized bladders
   Ok, Whiney & Divo have been "trained" for quite a while now.  But all of a sudden, they can't seem to get through a night without one (usually both, ick) of them hosing down the bed in the middle of the night.  Even better?  Several times it's been MY bed, because Whiney keeps sneaking into my room after I put him down at night!  The only thing I hate more than pee-sheets is pee-sheets that have "mysteriously" disappeared until I have to play WHUCK IS THAT SMELL?!


Offender #3: The Man
   I love him, really, I do.  But he's got some sort of heat rash, and apparently the itching drives him to flop about all night like a landed trout, shaking the entire room like a 6.5 quake.  Not exactly conducive to my sleep.


Offender #4: The neighbors' yappy annoying dog
   I love dogs.  I have a dog.  But she rarely barks at night.  This dog?  Whiney farts in his sleep and this dog starts yapping at the noise.  I swear the dog sees ghosts or something.  I wish they would take the darn thing inside, but then they'd have to deal with the noise all alone.  Misery loves company.  Or something.

Things that make me feel old

I'm not that old, right?  I mean, I'm not 1/2 way to 40 yet, although I'm closer to that than I am to my 20's.  I have young kids, and kids keep you young right?  Anyone?  Anyone?  Bueller?  Bueller?

So, here is a list, in no particular order, of things that are currently making me feel old:

• HEAT.  I can't breathe.  I can't move without sweating.  I'd rather scare the neighbors and small children by walking around in chonies and a sports bra than get dressed.
• Just to clarify, my children are not scared by this - they enjoy making comments about my squishy pillow-tummy, and trying to blow raspberries on me.  Fun times.
• My friends' daughter.  Seriously?  My friend is NOT old enough to have a high-school grad.  Which means I am not old enough to remember her as a 1-year old, which means we are not old, right? Riiiiight.
• Plus side?  She loves babysitting, so now I have an awesome sitter that the boys actually behave for.  Thank God she's staying in town for college!
• My not-hot bod.  Having kids means you basically turn your body inside out, use a myriad of torture devices on it that would have made the Spanish Inquisitors cringe, and then try to pull off wearning your pre-pregnancy clothes.  As a fellow blogger would say, you can't hide back-fat.  Or spider veins, or cellulite.
• I can't wait for the day they invent a machine that sucks fat out of where your DON'T want it, and puts it back where you do.  Say, transfer of fat from my ass, thighs and belly, back up to my boobs where it was in the first place.  That oughtta perk those babies up!
• My hair.  The hair on my head is currently refusing to grow, which is odd, because, the hair everywhere else on my body is on sasquatch-mode.  And turning gray in odd little patches.  The hair on my head is - sheesh you all are dirty!  Gonna look like Stacey London soon (in my dreams!), And, my head-hair has also decided to become horse-hair coarse, rather than the silky loveliness I took for granted the last mumble-hmpf years.


Not "THE" shoes, but I love these!

• Shoes.  Why oh WHY can't I wear the adorable shoes I used to live in?  I used to totally rock a pair of 4-inch, turquoise snake-skin sandals, oh, and my knee-high, 4-inch stiletto boots.  I cringe at anything over 2 inches now.  Wait, what?  That sounded porny.

• Ke$sha, Lady Gaga & all those other crazy chicks.  Um, maybe it's just me getting old, but how come it's cool and awesome to look and act like a total whack-job?  Had I known this was coming, I'd have kept my awesome 80's sparkle glasses, ill-fitting clothes and bedazzler.

•  My kids.  Specifically, Divo.  I mean really, when a 6-year old has to explain something to you, all the while shaking his head in disbelief, you are out of your age-depth.  I totally remember doing this to my mom, adding that super-annoying whiney "Moooommmuh!  Can't you just (insert ridiculous pre-teen demand here)!?

But, despite all of these lovely things, I can always wrap myself in the Snuggie of knowledge that my dear husband will ALWAYS be older and grayer than me.  Happy Birthday a little early baby!