You guys, I’m sick. Like, man cold sick. I have been laying in bed since roughly 6:30pm flip-flopping like a fish because my stupid nose can’t decide which nostril wants to be stuffed up. I’ve sounded like Cindi Lauper for a week now and have slowly progressed into Penny Marshal. I can’t decide which is worse.
Brooklynn has been screaming “mom” for almost 2 hours because she refuses to fall victim to sleep training. I check on her every 20 mins and when I do, she flops down on her belly, closes her eyes, and doesn’t make a sound. “Haha mom, you’re a sucker. I’m totally fine but made you drag your 50lb head in here for absolutely no reason. Now leave so I can call you again. Oh, and I hate Dad right now, so don’t even bother sending him in. Just let him continue watching Walking Dead uninterrupted, kay?”
The rare moment when she is quiet, I lay here staring at my vicks vapo rub like a hyena in heat. So warm and tingly and breathy. Can’t.Get.Enough.
What makes this super sexy, is the oversized chunky knitted sweater I’m wearing from 1980 that has stretched to my knees and the sweet sweet aroma of apple cider vinegar that my husband calls “stinky feet tea”. In high school we used to drink vinegar packages…it was cheaper than helium and you got the same result. That probably explains a lot…
I remember when Thursdays were reserved for pre-drinking for the weekend festivities. #throwbackthursday to when I wasn’t 95 and could handle more than broth. Now I just pray Alain isn’t working so I’m not out numbered with no place to hide.
I am at the age where I actually google to see if you can take Tylenol with NyQuil. I’m convinced everything is gonna kill me. Lame-o McLamerton.
Ugh…time to go pretend I care about my kid right. Thanks for not un-friending me world. I’ll do better next time ♥