Tired.
That’s me in a nutshell.
I haven’t slept much this week. My mind is like the Mall of America–a lot of shit going on and no end in sight to the madness–WITHOUT the food court.
I blame my kids. Well, not blame them directly. They’re a by-product actually. OK, that’s not true. It’s totally their fault.
Anyway, I’ve got all these balls flying around my head and I can’t seem to concentrate long enough to shove them in my pants.
Wait. What?
That actually might be another story.
So…
School has started. And I have four kids–in 3 different schools–which is actually better than last year–when I had 4 kids in FOUR different schools.
I’m whittling them down. I’ve whittled. Still whittling. (is that even a word?)
I’ve been to numerous orientations, meet the teachers, and athletic meetings so far this week.
Are you bored yet? Because I am.
And last night, I reached the precipice. Read: breaking point
I was at one of my daughter’s high schools, listening to the athletic director give a Power Point presentation on “What is an Athlete?”
Right then, I should have excused myself from the auditorium because everyone knows what an athlete is. Thank-you-very-much-mister-athletic-director, can we please be dismissed, I haven’t had my daily dosage of wine yet and it’s 7 o’clock on a school night and did I mention I haven’t had my wine?
As he went on and on, his voice became more and more annoying in my head and I honestly had to fight back the urge to stand up and scream, “Shut the fuck up you moron, we know the purpose of having officials officiating the games! To officiate!” Or, I was the smartest person in a sea of dumbasses. Either way it sucked.
Finally! An hour and a half later it was over. I had survived. I was officially brain dead, but still… alive.
But! Wait! We’re not finished yet. Take THAT you really cute mom of 4 kids. (that’s what I imagined the universe was saying to me)
The athletes were to meet with their respective coaches for their own little meetings. And that’s when I first considered suicide.
But how? Run over myself with my car? Squeeze the entire tube of anti-fungal cream I had in my purse into my mouth? (is anti-fungal cream toxic?). Jab my car keys into my Carotid artery? The possibilities seemed unlikely, but doable in a pinch.
Instead of killing myself, I sent text messages to my daughter–the one in the meeting with her coach.
Are you finished yet?
Not yet.
How about now?
MOM, not yet.
I’m dying you know. You’re killing me.
I’m sorry. I’m hurrying.
I think my heart rate has slowed. I may not have a pulse.
MOM, STOP TEXTING ME. I’M GONNA GET IN TROUBLE.
Oh bite me. If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t be alive. Did I mention I’m dying?
Meeting almost over.
YAY! Hurry, you may have to drive me to the hospital. I’m THAT close to death.
OMG MOM. Stop being dramatic.
Are you coming? Is he finished? What could he possibly be saying that’s more important than me being home and in the tub right now?
You’re so embarrassing.
You are.
Wow. Mature mom.
You’re grounded.
Whatever.
Are you coming? I can’t feel my arms. I think I’m having a stroke.
I’m turning off my phone.
Apparently she did just that because she didn’t respond to my last text which was, I shouldn’t have had children.
5 minutes later she was in the car and we were headed home–FINALLY! She didn’t say much to me on the drive home, which is odd, since I’m like her favorite person on the planet. Oh well, maybe she was just tired.
Like me.
Funny, I was either dreaming or I could swear someone resembling her was standing over me in the middle of the night last night whispering, die, die, die.
Kids. They’re hilarious.
{ 20 comments… read them below or add one }
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Maybe you should think about getting those little bottles of wine and keeping one in your purse. For emergencies. Just like this one.
Now THAT was funny.
God, Shauna Glenn, you're funny.
I feel like texting my wife like that whenever we go shoe shopping for her. Ugh.
Hilarious! I'm going to torture my stepsons in a similar fashion.
In Ohio they have started selling wine in the little cardboard pouches. Very convenient. I have also considered a "lumbar pack" made by camelbak to hold my crap (and at a function like the one you were at, a "lumbar pack" would be acceptable to hold said crap) and it holds 1.3 liters of your favorite liquid in an insulated compartment.
OK, now I TOTALLY want to get my kid a cell phone, just so I'd have a new medium in which to torture him. You are my kid-torture guru! Which is um, a complement.
I mean "complIment". Shit. I need a spelling guru.
I am laughing the whole time. My son was at Fish Camp and he was texting me that he was hoping it was done so he can go home becasue it was boring. That went on for an hour with him until I picked him up.
I'm so glad that the schools in Egypt want absolutely nothing to do with us parents. And I can make the kids walk to school.
This was great! Loved it.. Have your glass of wine? Love ya, and come visit us! NOW
I love when we can embarrass our teens – cause it's just so much fun! Besides, they need to learn a sense of humor – it will take them far later on.
LMAO! PS I am soo tired also. My diva almost 9 year old daughter is DRAINING!
LMAO!! I imagine that is the kind of relationship my daughter and I will have when she is older. Actually, minus the cell phone (because I will NOT buy a 4 year old a phone, even tho she begs), we do bicker back and forth.
Now that kids are in school….lunch again soon? I've got a book w/ your name on it (literally) and I owe you lunch!
That was funny. Last night I was at a soccer coaches' meeting, and when we started the second hour going over things that the entire room already knew, I started texting other coaches to see who had forgotten to silence their phones. Sometimes you just have to amuse yourself…SG, get your mind out of the gutter…
my daughter is four, but I will be texting her as soon as she gets a cell phone and is capable of texting. I can't wait to torture her via text. It will bring a whole new level to my game.
You would be a fun distraction for me during the work day. Feel free to text me anytime.
That was hilarious! I'm glad you maintained your cool and weren't at all dramatic in your text messages.
"die. die. die."
Loved it!
LMAO!!
And buying you a purse-sized flask for Christmas.
xoxo