Let me tell you about my day.
It started at 5:15 this morning, because… THING 2. And Thing 2 is forever afraid that he’s going to miss a sunrise, so he just gets up earlier and earlier, as assurance that he’ll see those first streaks of pink cross the sky.
Hubs took the boy to school early this morning, and then he came back home, bearing an Oprah Chai latte from Starbucks, because apparently his first wife is his favorite wife. Also, he forgot his laptop at home, so he was coming back to collect that anyway, so why not swing by Starbucks and treat his wife? I have married a good man, y’all.
After Hubs left for the second time this morning, the Oprah chai and I sat down at my computer to check the news, which translates into READING FACEBOOK and Googling the phrase HOW TO DECORATE A CHRISTMAS TREE WITH A TODDLER IN THE HOUSE. We need options that don’t include BREAKABLE BULBS, y’all. I had Thing 2 sitting in his daily Spanish class, with his teacher, Dora. And that, people, is when I realized that my computer had ISSUES. Specifically, my desktop was GONE. Vaporized. Also known as NONEXISTENT.
Which is why I spent the next thirty minutes on the phone with tech support… otherwise known as Hubs. He had me clicking here and clicking there, and opening this folder and blah, blah, blah, until I thought my head would just explode. And then Hubs sighed on the phone, because he understands a motherboard like I understand a semicolon, and he can’t, for the life of him, come to grips with the fact that no one else on this planet can build a computer from the ground up, with two bread bag ties and a piece of half-chewed bubblegum. Likewise, I can’t understand Hubs’ fear of punctuation. Venus and Mars, y’all.
And that, people, is why I just powered the Big Mac down, so that it could wait quietly for Hubs to get home and look at it. I spent an entire day without once looking at Pinterest to see trees that are perhaps decorated in PAPER SNOWFLAKES THAT DO NOT BREAK WHEN CHUBBY HANDS GRAB THEM. Instead, I cleaned. There was vacuuming and mopping and scouring and scrubbing. After I had vacuumed and mopped the living room, I started vacuuming the dining room. Thing 2 was playing with his trains on our coffee table, but apparently he felt the urge for a mid-morning snack, which explains why he opened a box of hard taco shells out of the pantry and ate them like giant tortilla chips.
So I vacuumed the living room again, because it looked like a Taco Bell had been slaughtered beside my coffee table.
And then, somewhere about lunchtime, I decided that I might be catching a cold. I was just sitting there, minding my own business and feeding Thing 2 some Cheerios, which is what he requested for lunch, and all of a sudden, I was all, YES. MY CHEST FEELS TIGHT AND I HAVE “THAT FEELING” THAT HAPPENS RIGHT BEFORE THE PLAGUE STRIKES.
Which is why I spent the rest of the afternoon slathering myself in essential oils and gulping juice heavily-laden with Vitamin C.
It’s also why I’m going to close up shop here at Jedi Mama, Inc. right now. I’m going to brush the toddler’s teeth, stuff him into his footie pajamas, kiss his cheeks a dozen and thirty-two times more, rock him to sleep, ask the boy if all of his homework is done, ask the boy to DOUBLE CHECK to make sure that all of his homework is done (since teenage boys sometimes just plain forget that OH, YEAH. I HAD SOME MATH TO DO, six minutes after their mother tells them to get into bed), and then BOOM! I’m going to bed myself.
Because nothing lets you love yourself more than a 7:30 bedtime, people. And THAT is something they won’t tell you in college.