Morning Mania

I just need to say this.

Scarlett hates the morning.

Hates it.

That doesn't stop her from racing the sun every single morning. But as soon as she is awake it's all screaming at the top of her lungs and throwing herself down into full on fit mode.

I don't get it.

Every morning, I'm like, Scarlett. You hate the morning. Go back to bed. Let us all get a couple more hours of sleep. Wake up happy. And stop screaming at me!

It's out of control.

And every single morning, the number one reason she is so pissed off, well other than just being awake during those god-forsaken hours, which is my own personal opinion, is because I go in there to get her out of the crib instead of her daddy.

Which is who she wants.

When Zach is home there is no screaming.

There is no yelling.

There is peace and quiet.

She has him.

He has her.

They come out to the living room. Snuggle. She has her Baba and a juice cup. And all is right in the world.

When its just me? I race. Literally race. To get that damn juice cup filled up, sometimes, when I remember, I fill it up the night before, just to be ready for my pre-dawn sprint. And then I turn on the TV. Preferably to Mickey Mouse Club, but now I think Handy Manny is on before that, which she doesn't love, but its better than Little Bill.

Now if it were Stella, she Loves Little Bill.

But Stella doesn't rear her pretty little head until way after eight.

Thank the Lord, one of my children love me.


So then, I continue my sprinting into her bedroom where I then have to convince her to let me get her out of the crib because I'm not her daddy.

It's insanity. I'm all, Scarlett get over here, while rubbing my eyes and trying to get my vision to work, in my deep husky voice that doesn't really work yet and certainly doesn't sound like a woman, and rocking unstably back and forth on legs that would much rather still be curled up, asleep underneath my warm blankets.

And she is doing this Circus Act that consists of her screaming, while at the same time, throwing stuffed animals at me, while at the same time throwing her body down on one side of the crib, standing back up, throwing her body down on the other side of the crib and so on and so forth.

I then usually resolve the issue by just saying, "Fine. Go back to bed. I'm not dealing with this again."

And I turn to walk away.

She then relents and lets me pick her and like five of her stuffed animals, and three of those ridiculous pillow pets up, whilst teetering her water cup (Yes, she needs two drinks in the morning) and throwing her Baba magically over my shoulder.

We finally make it out to the couch, where I deposit my still angry child, wrap her up in said Baba and hand her her juice.

Her attention then turns to the TV. She drinks her juice in its entirety in usually about three seconds and then she's ready to get involved.

With TV that is.

She starts talking to the TV. On most mornings she just responds to the questions and sings along to the theme song.

Those are our better mornings.

On mornings like today, she has been yelling at Mickey and Minnie to do what she wants them to do for fifteen minutes so far, and they haven't been listening. Which is just adding to this little go-getters flame.

Oh. My.

It might be a two juice cup kind of morning.

Which is totally against my policy and I only use in desperate moments.

But its Friday.

Hallelujah its Friday.

And tomorrow Zach will be here for this. And she won't wake up so mad. Ok, scratch that. She will still wake up piping hot, but as soon as she sees that darling man's face, she'll calm down and have a wonderful morning.

That is until he goes off to work.

Then it will start all over again for me.

Dang it Spring with your Saturday Work Days.

I miss the winter, when Zach didn't have to be in to work until 8 and the two of them had like an hour together before he was off.

Ugh. I don't really miss the winter.

In fact, what I miss most is the spring!

Hello Warm Weather??? Where are you????

Geesh. The Pools are supposed to open on Monday. Or Tuesday. Or in a few days and it is not warm enough for that.

No. Ma'am.

Oh that Scar Baby. She is something else.

I just wish she would believe me that she hates the morning and should sleep through it!

Um, hello! I think I know a little something about hating mornings!

But one day she'll be like that Power Woman that is up at 4:30 every morning running a Fortune 500 company, because she'll be the only executive in the building with enough balls to call people exactly that early and fire them, whilst(I've been using that word a lot lately, I kind of love it....) double fisting espressos and running a 5k on her treadmill in under twenty minutes.

I hope so at least.

Could you imagine that amount of energy and trajectory force aimed at a poor little family?

Oh my.

Well. Update on the Hives.

I said Hives. Not Hivs.

They are Ruining. My. Life.

Still not gone.

Still not even pretending to go away.

The itching is amazingly better. Thank God!!! Otherwise I wouldn't be blogging right now. I think I would have checked myself into the psych ward and found a corner to rock back and forth in.


Stop using water-boarding at Gitmo and just inject the terrorists with chicken pox.

First of all, you know they aren't updated on their vaccines.

Second of all, duct tape oven mits around their hands and put them in a padded room without any sharp objects to use to scratch themselves.

I guarantee they will crack in no time.

There is nothing worse than an itch you can't scratch.

Ok. Fine. Torture is worse.

But still. This is torture.

So Thank the Lord the itching is subsiding. Now if I could just lose the polk-a-dots so I could be seen in public.

We have a busy weekend already and I can't be walking around covered head to toe in calamine lotion, smelling like absolutely nothing because I'm too afraid to use, body wash, or soap, or lotion, or body spray thanks to the knowledge that if these hives don't go away soon, I am going to Lose. My. Mind.

I've already had to cancel, not one, not two, but three. THREE. Social functions this weekend.

And I will be going to one tomorrow, but not because I think it the best thing to expose any part of my epidermis to the sun no matter for how short of period. But because my sister-in-law is graduating high school and I can't in good conscience skip it.

Nor do I want to.

She's graduating from OCA.

And they know how to do a graduation.

Seriously, I'm not kidding

You can fight me on their ability to throw a prom. But graduation I will not budge.

A few years ago, we all went to my other sister-in-laws graduation, where she graduated from a huge Class A school and there were like 1,000 people in her graduating class.

Most boring event of my life. I couldn't even see the students because it was at the Civic Center. We had to park a mile away. And then sit there for the three hours, just for the three seconds Kylee walked across the stage.


Not like that. They take there time. But nothing like three hours. Maybe an hour and a half.

The choir sings.

The band plays.

Probably the ensemble will sing too.

They will have a special speaker worth listening to.

A slide show for sure.

And for the twenty or so graduates it will be special. And personal.

I loved my High School Graduation.

It was perfection.

And not just because I was finally graduating high school.

Oh. Maybe my mom will let me pull out the old Bassoon and get involved with Pomp and Circumstance!

Just kidding. Kind of....

Who would watch the kidlets?

And besides. I haven't owned a White, Collared, Button Up Shirt with Floor Length Black Skirt since... Since....? Since my High School Graduation?

So. Anyways.

My twitter experiment is going well. I think....

Lets have a moment of truth here. Come on. Every one gather around the truth circle.

I have something to say.

I don't really get Twitter. That's right. It doesn't really make sense to me....

Does that make me old? Or just dumb? Or just.... out of the loop?

Whatever the reason, what does listed mean? And how do people find me? And how do I get all of these other threads that I haven't decided to follow yet? And how do I find more people I know?

I got tweets to share people.

Tweets to share.

I think I actually know two people on there. In the entire tweeting world.

And I think only one of them actually uses Twitter. My gorgeous cousin Jen. Who also has a fantastic blog by the way. I think you should all follow her.

She is so positive and upbeat. AND. She's a stay at home momma, so you know she has some fantastic adventures to share.

She's just wonderful.

Anyways. Twitter is bizarre. It's just another social media outlet to check.

But. Ok. I kind of love it too.

I have so many random thoughts that need to be shared.

Oh. So. Many.

Too. Many.

And maybe they don't need to be shared. But man is it fun to share them. Over night I got four followers.

Save for Jen, I don't even know how they found me.

What's protocol? Do I now have to follow them? Is that what you do? Is that like... Polite?

Oh. Boy.

Feel free to join and look me up so we can go through this misadventure together!

Or what?

Are you too cool?

Or. Maybe. Just normal.

Dang it. This Coo Coo Ca Choo Crazy Train strikes again!


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