Disclaimer: This is About Puke

Right in the middle of last night's drama text war, Donovan threw up. No warning or anything, just puked all over the place and sat in it and cried. This is a first for him. My kids don't get the "urps" because I got it enough as a kid for all of us. I said "Did you throw up?" even though he doesn't even know what that means. Donovan, not knowing how or why any of this was happening, was completely offended and in the most appalled voice a three year old boy can muster said "Yes??!?!"

I cannot stress enough how little I deal with these situations. I had no clue what to do about it. I couldn't decide if I cleaned up the bed or him first, or even how to clean those things, or whether I should just run up and down the road screaming for help.

I said "Hold on, baby, I'm going to get some paper towels."
Donovan screamed, "NOooooo..........I throw uuuuuuuuup..."
I ran to the kitchen, then couldn't quite figure out what I was going to do with the paper towels, anyway, so I put them back. I went to check on Donovan -- still screaming, still sitting in puke.

I said "Hang on, you wanna take a bath?"
He continued screaming. I took it as a yes.

I left to run the bath.

Then I came back and patted him on the back. It takes awhile for the bath to be ready, so I left again to find towels and new pajamas and new bedding, in what resulted in my running back and forth about twenty times from his room to every other room in the house, basically accomplishing nothing. He screamed some more.

When the bath was ready, I picked him up strategically so that he wouldn't get any disgustingness on me. He was offended by that, as well. I washed him, and then he was freezing.

After I got him dressed again and covered up, I laid him on the couch so I could go clean up his room. He immediately puked again, all over the couch and his new cleanliness.

:::sigh:::

I said, "Ok, don't move."
He got up and started running in circles, screaming about something he needed but he doesn't really speak very well, and I didn't know what he wanted. I finally figured out he wanted paper towels, so I handed some over to him while I did the rest.

I had given him a bucket...he is now convinced that the bucket is the evil device that caused all of this, and that his bed is also in on the scheme. He wants nothing to do with either of those things that make him throw up.

I stayed up most of the night, cleaning and making sure he was all settled in before I went to bed. When I climbed into my own bed in the wee hours of the morning, I heard him running down the hall. He wanted to sleep in my bed. Awwwwwwwww....the little puke machine wants mommy! Dang it! I said "Honey, maybe your bed is better...you still sleep on things that are covered in plastic. Mommy's bed is permanent." He didn't agree, so I let him in. Poor kid. He spent the rest of the night chasing my face around in his sleep so he could cough directly on it.

Fantastic.

Dear Interwebz

Ok, so in the last few days:

Salute the troops?  Check.
Bitch about the ex?  Check.  (and check, check, check.)
Talked about housework?  Check.
Mommy blogging?  Check.
Funny, inspiring, awe-inducing and interesting?  eh...four out of five isn't bad. 

Some day, I will get some sleep, and no drama will happen for an entire day, and I'll get to go outside and remember what the sun is, and my house will be clean, and my kids will behave, and then, oh Interwebz, I will be so funny that day.

In the meantime, you get this:

A Letter to You, Oh Internet

Dear Internet(s),

I never thought I would fall for a younger man (again).  )You are a man, right?  I'm just assuming because I found porn under your mattress, and also you have no manners.)  (If you're not a man, we need to talk...maybe not a deal breaker, because I think having a wife would kick ass, but still, there's the porn and all the match-making sites which make me wonder if you would be a faithful husband/wife/hermaphrodite/partner at all...) 

I am amazed at how much I care for you, in spite of your awful spelling and your incorrect usage of there, their and they're.  Many times, I have no idea what you are trying to say, and your lack of capitalization and punctuation make me vaguely sick, which may be the feeling I am confusing for love, because really, isn't it all the same?  Or maybe I'm pregnant.  Hold on....

Ok, not pregnant, so I think it's love.  Or the flu.  Or the grammar thing.

I'm glad you're always there for me with your hulu and your facebook and your trolls and your emails.  Also your news and your full-time honesty and your Google and Wikipedia...you have so much to offer for the people who never leave their mom's basement and sit there all day blogging and thinking up the best serial killer plans and taking over the world which is NOT ME (ahem) because I have a life, and also I have kids and I'm too busy because if I took over the world, my kids would break it and everyone would be mad at me.  But for those other people, yeah, you're pretty cool.

I'm glad I wrote this, because I am starting to realize that I don't actually have anything good to say about you Internet.  I think you must not be the gender-neutral "one" for me after all.

It's ok, though.  So we won't get married, no big deal.  I'm too busy for that, and also?  I'm in love with someone else.  Yes, it just happened between the last paragraph and this one.  So peace out, Internets.

We'll always have the memories
MannyRee

Today Happened

So, if you read this, you know I'm not exactly "with" my husband anymore.  That's because I just don't have a high tolerance.  At least, that's what he tells me.  As of last week, we have to mess with the ugly "D" word.  It's kind of a bummer.

Here are some things I miss:

I used to be able to sit cross-legged in my computer chair while I wrote this pointless blog.  Now, I can't, because my awesome computer chair has been replaced with a tiny one.  I don't know where the awesome one went, but it's gone, and I miss it dreadfully.

I miss having boots.  I used to work in a western-wear store 14 years ago, and I had lots of boots.  Now, I don't, and I kind of want some.

I miss last Saturday night.  I had peace for one whole night.  Peace, I miss you, dude.

Wow, listing my feelings like that was very therapeutic.  I'm glad I got it out.  I feel much better now.

Here are some things I still have, and I'm very grateful for them:

Kids
Dog
Family
Friends
Computer
Coffee
Bad attitude (my own, I don't like yours)
A LOVE for diesel engines that surpasses any mortal understanding
ALL the power tools, yo
This amazing blog
The ability to sleep and drive (no, I'm really good at it)
Smart alec skilz
My low-skilled but high-paying and excessively dishonorable job (it's pretend, though)

So, I guess things aren't too bad after all.

Rules

I'd like to take a moment to fix the problems in today's world.  You may either read this and pass it along until everyone reads and follows them, or elect me president.  Either way is fine with me, however, if I were president, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have to do laundry anymore, so that may be the best solution...

1.  Bring back manners.
2.  Never vote in favor of death, bigger government or higher income taxes.
3.  We could cut taxes tremendously if we quit paying the politicians.  If they were volunteers, maybe we would start getting people who actually care about the betterment of our country.
4.  Anyone who drinks and drives should have something cut off of their person.  Maybe their right foot.
5.  Anyone who hurts children should have something cut off of their person.  No need to give a suggestion as to which part.
6.   Stop suing doctors.  Money isn't going to fix it, and all you do is raise the cost of healthcare.
7.  Men should be men, and teach their sons to be men.  Quit being gigantic wusses.
8.  Women should be women, and teach their daughters to be women.  Quit letting the men be wusses.
9.  School should start at ten and give me a chance to drink some coffee before I have to drive near a high concentration of children.
10.  Raise your children.  Don't let everyone else do it, because they're doing a horrible job.
11.  Americans should use only British swear words.  They are funnier.

This is part one.  I have things to do.  Bergershnerger.