Murphy's Law

Why is it that every time Vincent is screaming bloody murder in his car seat I get stuck behind someone leisurely driving at a glacier's pace?? It is much like the law of gravity; what goes up must come down; Vincent cries we cruise like snails. Other than Vincent's heinous hysteria on our way home from Morro Bay this afternoon, things are going pretty well. The weather is gloomy and opaque which hasn't managed to damper my mood quite yet. Although I do wish it would rain. We are in desperate need of a good rain, and hell, if it's going to be dark and dreary outside, I'd like to take advantage of the distinct smell that only rain can bring about.

My sister, her husband and her precious baby Lucy will be in town tonight. I am looking forward to spending a long weekend with my family, watching Lucy clumsily attempt walking (although I hear she is getting more and more balance as the days go by), and put together a "faux" easter egg hunt for the babies. I imagine we will just be sprawling eggs on the lawn for the babies to crawl around and grab. I don't foresee Vincent searching high and low, in bushes and trees for the sought after eggs! Lucy on the other hand...

I am begining to hear the faint whimpers of Vincent, letting me know he has awoke from his nap. So I will sign off for now.

xoxox

One of those days I guess....

As of right now, Vincent is crying in his crib and I am trying to drown out the noise with lame reality television. My dear husband is working out at the gym. Must be nice, right? You're gone for 10 hours during the day, you come home and give Vincent a bath and then your job is done and you get to go work out?? WTF? Really though, I can only blame myself. If I said "no" he wouldn't have gone. I gave the OK and now I'm pissed. I do this time and time again. And I don't know why! Whenever he walks through the door after working up a sweat, I throw dagger eyes his way and wish him dead. So why do I let him go? I have come to realize it's some sort of fucked up guilt thing that I have within myself. You know, he's worked all day and he deserves to go out, right? But what about me? I've worked all day too. The only difference is that I didn't get to take a lunch break or even shit by myself! I need to respect my job as a mother and realize I work hard too. Actually I work harder. I need to go to the gym God damn it!

I ate bad sour cream at dinner and now my stomach hurts...

I just took a valium...ya it's been one of those days!