So, it's Sunday morning, and I should be on the way to church. But I'm not. Why? Why, you ask? Because I married an idiot. Despite the snow, he parked in the driveway, on the big hill. So, he's stuck. We spent ten or fifteen minutes trying everything I could think of to get it out, then I gave in and let him take my car to work. Which, apparently, has my cell phone in it. And my sanity, I'm guessing.
It does, actually, have my planner, which is where I keep all my numbers and email addresses, so I can't get anyone. I tried to email a text to my mom, but I don't know how she's going to get back with me, so that's not all that helpful.
Last night, Brynna threw up in bed. It was a mess. A really, really big mess. So, I very calmly asked for my husband's help and began to get Brynna undressed. As Brynna freaked out and everything went spiralling downhill until the two of us were sobbing and totally out of control, he laid in bed whining, "What's wrong? What do you need?"
I don't know when he figured out that I wasn't going to answer him, but he finally got up and came to help me? No, no, he started cleaning up her bedroom, completely ignoring the fact that Brynna and I were nigh on meltdown.
Then, when I had her cleaned, teeth brushed, berobed and nestled in my bed, he yelled at me for freaking out.
Last night, Brynna and I were watching Demons (okay, for the record, I do, in fact, know that this is not appropriate programming for a five year old, but 1. it comes on after Dr. Who, 2. I was trying to get her to go to bed, and you don't do that by putting the TV on something she likes, and 3. It's not like there's any sex or anything) and a commercial for some low-something diet aid type of food came on.
"Oooh, that looks icky," opined Brynna.
"Yep. It sure does," I concurred.
"I don't think I'll ever eat that. Plus, I don't need it because I'm skinny, right Mommy?" she querried.
"Yep," I concurred again. I was furiously trying to finish my crochet project in hopes of being able to post it on Monday.
"But, maybe you should try it mommy, since you're really fat. You know, they say it tastes good."
I think I'll just go back to bed. Sure, the kids will have to fend for themselves, but I really think they'll prefer that anyway.