When:
is Jeff’s hand going to stop hurting and heal?
are hurricanes going to stop blowing through here?
am I gonna get licensed?
life gonna return to normal?
gas prices gonna go down?
am I gonna get a boob job?
will we be able to ride bikes to school again?
are the cherubs gonna clean their rooms?
are the laundry fairies gonna visit?
is this house gonna stop smelling so damn musty?
am I going to find the time to color my hair pink again?
will I stop feeling guilty and anxious?
are children going to stop suffering?
am I going to be able to work a normal day again, without cherubs out of school, hurricanes, etc.
am I gonna stop whining?

Why:
are boys so damn violent?
is there NEVER enough Diet Dr. Pepper?
does the power and therefore the DVR have to be out on the one day “my shows” are on?
is this damn city still under curfew?
does it take Jeff over an hour to get home from work now?
do the cherubs not go back to school until Thursday?
do I have to survive til Thursday, can’t I just curl up and die?
is it so hard to loose weight?
is there never enough time to do everything?
am I living with this sense of fear and dread?
does my mother have to be so damned needy?
does a hurricane have to blow through and triple the DRY Ink remodeling projects?
can’t I take a nap til Thursday?
do I have to be sick?
doesn’t the world have, laundry fairies, floor laying fairies, fence rebuilding fairies, dish washing fairies, roofing fairies and the like?
is life so unfair?
am I whining so damn much?

I bet you really wish I’d figure that last one out.

I will update, but for now all I can say is that it was bad, really bad, so bad that over half Baton Rouge is still without power. Until then: I am up and running and watching Ike closely. We won’t even get into work.

I’m dealing with this the same way I do everything: Denial and Diet Dr. Pepper.

Be afraid, be very afraid.
Her super power is attitude.

Right now my heart is shredding in my chest. In time, I will understand that this too shall pass and then some other shit will start up. But right now I can’t focus on that, the pain is too intense. It is becoming clearer and clearer that it is no longer a question of if things will be too much, but only when. This saddens me. I had hoped to hang on until I was licensed and then take an extended break. But right now that seems damn near impossible. I hate letting people down.

I went to the store in search of comfort food, only to find the pop tart aisle empty. Hell, all the aisles are bare in preparation for Gustav, but did they really have to clear out the brown sugar and cinnamon pop tarts? I cried in the cereal aisle of Wal-Mart, clutching my diet Dr. Pepper.

It wasn’t pretty.

So I have no idea when the breaking point will come, just that it will. Right now I am forced to sit and concentrating on holding my heart together in my chest. Tomorrow I will figure out that this is all going to be okay. Right now I just want a damn pop tart.

Jack lost his 4th tooth this morning. Well, I actually jerked it out. (He asked me.) It was really icky. It took two tries.

We’ll see if the tooth fairy can manage to show up tonight.

The girl cherub lost her second tooth Saturday night. There were tears Sunday morning as she awoke to find that the tooth fairy. did. not. leave. her. ANYTHING!

I actually blamed it on her, because she left her tooth pillow in the living room. Clearly the tooth fairy can’t be expected to find her tooth if it isn’t in bed with her.

Right?

It just may be time to rename this blog The Bad Mother Chronicles.
If you need me, I’ll be wallowing in shame all day.

Dear Who ever is in Mountain View California doing Google site and cache searches of DRY Ink,

Please delurk and let me know what ever the hell it is you are looking for. Maybe you think I’m witty and just like my style, or maybe you’re an ax murder plotting to come kill my entire family. What ever. Either way, leave me a comment or shoot me an email and let me know what the hell you are up to so that I can sleep again at night. It’s not like I haven’t been through this before. I won’t do it patiently again. Please let me know what’s going on.

Mk, thanx, buh-by,
Erika

Today we rode bikes to school, as we do most days. I, because I was born with some sort of disorder that causes my brain to roll out of my ear in decision making situations, decided to ride the back way. Less traffic I thought. Stupid I am. It took way longer than expected, included no less that 3 bike wrecks, resulting in a huge bruise and brush burn on Em’s chest, a scratch the entire length of Jack’s leg, ant bites, (yes ant bites) and a harrowing experience in which Em was headed directly into the path of an on coming car.
Then we arrived at school. Late. And missing breakfast. No food, for my injured, traumatized cherubs. (I won’t mention their traumatized mother here.) I agonized over what to do. I rode home. I got in the truck and drove back to school and checked them out. Then I fed them bisques with sausage and honey.
The end.