midnight worries

Ever crawl into bed exhausted, and your mind STARTS GOING A MILE A MINUTE AND YOU JUST CAN'T TURN IT OFF? Why do we mothers do this to ourselves? Here are some of the things running through my head last night that prevented me from falling asleep until about one o'clock a.m.:

• Did my kids feel loved today?
• What time is the spring concert on Thursday?
• Why did I eat all those STUPID cookies?
• Will I survive the dental visits next week in which all my childhood fillings are replaced?
• Am I getting sick?
• My allergies seem really bad right now. Should I see someone here for that?
• I wonder what time my meeting is tomorrow.
• What day is my turn for treats at baseball?
• Does Josh have any clean shirts for work?
• How can I make reading more fun for Chase?
• Why DID I eat that?
• Maisy, Maisy, Maisy.
• I hope my toe doesn't hurt too bad to run.
• I don't know what I'll do if I can't run.
• Running is my sole physical release. I. MUST. RUN.
• Should I do laundry tomorrow or the next day?
• I should have done the laundry today. I won't be home all day tomorrow.
• I wish I didn't have the theme song from "Maisy" in my head. I HATE that song. Maisy, Maisy, Maisy - Maisy - Mouse!
• Seriously.
• Which house should we buy?
• How will we know it's the house?
• How will the kids survive this move?
• Was I patient enough with the kids today?
• Is my cell phone charged? Is the kids' phone charged?
• I wonder if I have time tomorrow to run to Michael's. Gotta get that new job chart finished.
• When will I have time tomorrow to make dinner?
• Maybe we should have pizza for dinner tomorrow.
• Did I close the garage door?
• Did I lock the back door?
• What was that noise?
• What if I die in my sleep tonight?
• What if someone breaks into the house and kills only me because I'm awake and could identify them?
• What if I have cancer and I don't know it?
• Wonder if the sun is coming up somewhere in the world right now.
• Maybe I should get up and have a bath.
• Are the kids covered up? It might be cold tonight. They'll probably get in bed with us if they're not covered up.
• Did we set the alarm clock?

Don't you just hate these kinds of nights? I don't have them very often, thank goodness. I don't know how I'd survive without my sleep. Hopefully tonight I'll be so tired that I'll crash right when my head hits the pillow...

OUCH!

Forgive the close-up of my ugly, disturbingly hobbit-like feet, but I had to share my pain. See the toe right next to the baby one? I think I broke it. I was stepping over a big, plastic box and slammed my foot into it really hard. It really hurts and has made wearing anything resembling shoes very painful. Nice Monday, no? Here's hoping the rest of the week goes better.

Not trying very hard to clear his name

A conversation:

Me: Could it POSSIBLY be zippered into one of the sofa cushions?

Him: Hmm? Oh, are you still looking for that remote?

Me: You had it last; you have to help me find it. Will you help me open the sleeper sofa again and look?

Him: I don't miss the remote. I'm kind of glad we haven't been able to find it. It's nice not having t.v.

Me: Do you want to live to see your grandchildren?

Him: Okay, I'll lift it up again, you look.

Me: What about in our room? Did you take the remote in there on Wednesday? [when it was last seen]

Him: I don't know. How much longer do we have to look for this thing?

Me: What about in the mattress - could it have gotten shoved in there?

Him: I don't see how that could have happened. I mean, isn't that the place most men hide their magazines?

Me: [A sizzling glare...] What else did you do that night? Think - recreate the night in your mind. Did you go to the bathroom and accidentally flush it, and you're just not telling me because you're embarrassed?

Him: No, I would have laughed really hard if that happened.

Me: [More glares]. What about snacks? Did you eat anything while I was gone on Wednesday? Maybe you took it down to the kitchen.

Him: Maybe. Ooh, I'm kind of hungry now that you mention it. Is there any more of that trail mix left?

Me: Oh, YOU WILL NOT BE EATING ANYTHING until we find this stupid remote.

Him: You know, I did have my computer out. Maybe it fell into my work bag.

Me: [30 seconds later, I'm looking in his bag and I find the damn remote] YOU ARE SO RETARDED. Have you not looked in here the last three days?

Him: Yeah, I kind of had to shove my computer down in there the last few days. Guess that was it.

Me: You guess that was it? Oh, you are so not watching any C-SPAN tonight.

Him: Sure, fine, whatever. Now how about that trail mix, woman?

My only consolation is that at least I get the ten dollars. And some new Grey's Anatomy.

At the scene of the crime...

Our t.v. remote has gone missing.

And not just hiding-under-the-couch-cushions-missing, but gone without a trace. Now for some, this might not be a big deal. For our house, it's huge. Sure, we can still watch t.v., but who wants to watch live t.v. anymore? I have been so spoiled by the DVR that I can't bear to sit through one minute of commercials. We TIVO everything and watch it commercial-free. Unfortunately, without the remote, the pre-recorded shows are inaccessible.

Josh was the last one to see the remote alive (which means we all blame him). He has become the primary suspect. We are gathering evidence for our case, but have little to convict him with unless we find a body.

He just might be sent to jail anyway. After all, it was a new Grey's last night, and I HAVE TO WATCH IT.

There is a reward being offered now of ten dollars for anyone who finds it. Yes, it is that important. My kids have been brought up right - they'll do ANYTHING for a buck. And ten bucks? Let's just say that trash has been gone through, and it wasn't by me.

If you have any information on the whereabouts of our remote, please send it my way. I know we'd all appreciate it (most especially Josh).

I hate it when that happens...

Don't you just hate it when you step into an elevator and stumble upon the worst B.O. you've ever smelled in your life? Unfortunately, you are on the top floor of the building and the elevator stops at each floor on its way down. Everyone that gets on looks right at you...as if you were the source. You want to scream at the top of your lungs, "IT ISN'T ME!"

Brought to mind the Seinfeld episode of the "Mutant B.O." that got left in the car from the parking valet guy.

In real life, it's not nearly as funny. Why is that?

why I'll keep my kids

Today was a horrible day.

It started to all go awry this morning at my long-overdue haircut. I have yet to find a hair cutting person here that I like, and was giving someone new a try. She was okay, but VERY CHATTY. She kept putting down the scissors to talk, and inside I'm freaking out, thinking of that preschooler of mine that announces ever-so-loudly (in her most disapproving tone) when I am late. And to complicate the preschool pick-up today, we had a playdate at the park with some new friends immediately following preschool (which I would have gotten out of had I known the Mom's cell phone number).

So it's five minutes before I needed to be picking Hannah up, and I'm still sitting in the salon chair. I told the hairdresser that I really needed to leave. That prompted her to PUT DOWN HER SCISSORS YET AGAIN to tell me some story about a customer who...BLAH, BLAH, BLAH. I tuned out and kept my panicked eye on the clock. She FINALLY finished about five minutes after I was supposed to pick up Hannah, which had me running out the door and wildly throwing money at the receptionist for my (not-so-great) sixty dollar haircut, but having no time with which to fix or deal with it.

So I fly over to preschool, grab Hannah, and head to the playdate. Remembering at that moment, of course, that it was a lunch playdate. And I had no lunch. So McDonald's drive-thru for Hannah it was.

Spent the next two hours chatting with the mother of Hannah's little friend who was very nice, but found myself floating away mentally to my to-do list that was at least a mile long.

Raced home to shove some lunch down my own throat before heading out to pick up the boys from school.

Then it was homework. And in between juggling homework, mail, and the phone calls that for some reason always come at homework time, I attempted to piece some dinner together.

Then we were off to Chase's baseball game. In the rain. Which makes me ever so cranky (and does nothing for the judgement of my new haircut which I possibly hate or love, but have no time to tell).

During the baseball game, I got assigned the task of keeping an eye on the boys in the dugout. We've had some boys messing around, and by virtue of the fact that I seem to attend every game (how the other parents get out of it is beyond me), they nominated me as Dugout Mom.

And on my first watch, someone got whacked in the face with a metal bat. (Aren't you just begging for me to tend your kids right about now?)

So we finish the game somewhat intact, pile in the car, and rush to sit in traffic for 30 minutes on our way home. We arrive home, hurriedly eat some of the less-than-tasty dinner I had thrown together earlier. Next came baths, the finishing of homework, and priming of the pinewood derby car.

I was frazzled. I was done. I needed these children in bed so I could sit down and find any sense of sanity left floating around my head (until, of course, I realize that there are 400 loads of laundry waiting to be folded and put away). I haul up three baskets full of clothes, grumbling, and find my sweet boy, McKay, sitting on Hannah's bed - reading to her. He'd tucked her in, picked out her favorite book, and began to read to her. Nobody asked him. Nobody even mentioned that he ought to do that. He saw I was about at the breaking point, and stepped up to the plate. It brought sharp tears to my eyes to see this thoughtful boy taking some time for his little sister, and having the wisdom beyond his years to know that I needed help.

Brought the day in perspective, too. Because at the end of the day, what really matters most anyway? The laundry I didn't get to? The emails waiting to be answered? The phone calls not returned? The dinner not made well? No, what matters is that these little people know that they're loved.

And boy, are they ever.