Gonna pee my pants!!!

Michael is SO horrible with surprises, and that's cool.

HE'S ON HIS WAY HOME FROM THE AIRPORT!!!!

*insert squeaky girl scream here*

I had a sneaky feeling he was gonna surprise me, he hadn't been calling or texting me very much lately. He's so bad with secrets. (Seriously- don't ever tell him anything!)

About an hour and a half until I'm back in his arms where I'm supposed to be! 

I don't know if I could be any happier. I love that boy.

My day consisted of...

1. Car wouldn't start this morning without multiple attempts and lots of inner cussing

2. Stuck behind a school bus for 80% of my trip to work

3. Almost wrecked in the parking lot due to distracted, rich parents.

4. Boss cornered me saying that we needed to talk about Ryder.

5. Car wouldn't start in parking lot for break until 20 minutes into precious break

6. Forgot spoon for yogurt- subbed with fingers. Gross.

7. Boss wasn't around to talk about Ryder when I got back.

8. Spit up on 6 times in an hour period.

9. Had a child with EXPLOSIVE diarrhea... all the way in his shoes.

10. Called mother of said child to explain that he was in wet shoes.

11. Got bitched at by said mother for having him in wet shoes.

12. Said mother came to bring him shoes.... and left him there to go back to work.

13. Dealt with screaming child. Wanted to scream with him.

14. Got head butted in the lip. Blood.

15. Cleaned the ENTIRE classroom purely to make the clock go faster.

16. Still have 4 kids at 5:30 (When I'm supposed to be out the door)

17. Boss comes in, talks to me for 15 minutes, undermines my discipline procedures.

18. Bit lip to keep from telling boss to rot in hell... Blood. 

19. Dropped children off with another teacher, left 20 minutes late.

20. Car wouldn't start in the parking lot without much hassle and embarrassment. 

21. Ryder throws temper tantrum ENTIRE. WAY. HOME.

22. Cry the whole way home

23. Get Ryder out of car-seat at home, go to check mail, Ryder shuts the goddamn garage door behind me.

24. Get foot almost shut in garage door trying to trigger the sensor to make it open again

25. Fling Ryder out of car. Another tantrum.

26. Try to talk Ryder into going inside. Another tantrum.

27. Spank Ryder. Feel like asshole.

28. Crock pot meal looks like vomit- need dinner alternatives.

29. Tell Ryder to get in chair for dinner. "NO NO NO NO NOOOO!!!!" tantrum.

30. Throw fish sticks in microwave to make Ryder shut up. Success.

My day sucked. I miss Michael. I need a drink.

Holy Fucking Christ

Yet again, another Christmas season is brutally forced upon me... despite my screaming and clawing at the calendar. 


I. Hate. Christmas. Season.


I don't mind the holiday, I love spending time with my family and watching my kid light up at everything that's handed to him, (and that's BEFORE he unwraps it) and the general spirit of things... but goddammit I hate Christmas music. Like, with a fiery, burning passion that consumes my soul for three solid months. 


Seriously. I was in Bed Bath and Beyond today and of course, my little boy-who is still to young to fully grasp my hatred- DEMANDED that we stop and play with EVERY singing toy in the Christmas aisle. Now, Mickey Mouse singing "Here comes Santa Clause" and the snowman singing the Frosty song were bad enough, but tolerable because he's little and it excites him, but holy shit balls I made the vital mistake of picking up a very tall and long-legged snowman. (The legs should've been my first clue that something was amiss... the hell kinda snowman has legs?!) 


I hesitated pressing the button, my inner alarms ringing on full alert, but this little smiling face of my unusually happy toddler pulled my fingers to the snowman's foot without my brain having any say in the matter. 


Do you know what assaulted my ears with the push of such a tiny felt button? Such an innocent, jolly looking, candy-red button??


Apple.Bottom.Jeans. APPLEBOTTOMJEAN?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! WHAT THE FUCK?!?


Here I am, in BB&B, totally flabbergasted by this abomination I'm holding in my hand singing RAP music and (what the fuck?!!?) DANCING!!


So thaaaaaaaaaaaat's what the long legs were for. So this snowman (rather jolly looking) could get "low low low low low low low" much like drunk sorority sisters in bars, wondering why they'll never get married. Really? A happy little snowman tricked my son and me into listening to this filth that is overtaking the world around us. Seriously??? Who wants that shit in their house?? My brain has been scarred. Eventually I fumbled the spawn of Satan back to it's rightful place on the shelf, and ran the cart, with my still dancing 2 year old (bless his heart, he doesn't know any better) on to a different aisle. 


The memory makes me shudder. 


I hate this season. Bah Humbug. 

Mmm... doughnuts... and memories.

Yesterday was National Doughnut Day for all of  you who didn't know. 


Naturally, I forgot, so Ryder and I went and celebrated today. I forgot how quickly sprinkles make me lapse into childhood and I want to go running up the street with my best friend to the creepy abandoned shack and dare each other to go inside. We never went further that the first room, then we went shrieking back down into my yard, collapsing with giggles and calling each other chicken, but then quickly moving on to our next 8 year old adventure in the pasture behind my house. (Yes Chelsea, I was that kid growing up in the south with cows in my backyard. haha) 


Then, while licking the sugary goodness off of my fingers, I remember that she lives in New Orleans, is married, and has a beautiful new little boy. I rarely talk to her. Then it occurs to me that I have a 2year old screaming me back into total reality. I have a toddler, a Soldier, a wedding coming up, a job that kicks my ass on a daily basis, a car that needs repairs, a house to buy, an irreplaceable ring to replace, (but THAT is a whole other story... sigh) and not enough money to go around until my next paycheck. 


Where's the goddamn lottery? At least Michael will be home soon and certified to do pretty much ANYTHING that involves an engine or other interchangeable parts, and will be making damn good money doing it. I sure do miss him though. 


I think AIT is almost worse than BCT. With BCT I never got to talk to him on the phone, so going about my daily business was easier, because I could let the fact that I was so lonely I just wanted to curl up on the floor and sob until I threw up slip to the back of my mind. In AIT he calls me every morning and every night, with a smattering of text messages strewn in.... which I LOVE, don't get me wrong, but every time I hear his ringtone or get a text that loneliness coming pummeling it's way to the forefront of my mind like a freight train. 


He'll be home for Christmas, but only for 2 weeks (1 of which I'm working all week) and then I get to sleep alone again after just getting used to having him with me. 


January cannot get here fast enough. Wish I knew his graduation day so I could get plane tickets.