What's New Over at Chez Crazy ...
What's been happening at HotDoctorFamily's Home, you ask??? Grab a freaking chair, get comfy, here goes ...
First of all, more of THIS stupid weather. Enough already. Snow Fairies, I give THEE my middle finger!!
We recently had ANOTHER leak. This time, my husband can claim that it wasn't from the fish tank. Sadly, it was coming from above the fish tank room (laundry room) and had been leaking through his tank room, into the basement. And for those of you keeping score at home, this makes the second time in two months we've had that shit repaired. The last time, we dealt with a nut for a drywall guy, and if you'd like to revisit the Hell that was my life then, READ THIS POST AND RELIVE THE HELL THAT WAS MY LIFE.
After throwing the world's biggest temper tantrum and screaming my bloody head off about it all (because really, after going through all of that??), we found another drywall dude to come in and fix the mess. Nice enough guy, did the work and got out in record time. He did manage to get some chunks of paint and drywall into a sump tank behind HDH's fish tank, but I got that how before any real damage was done. Because, well, I do kick ass.
We are also having our house painted on the inside. The painting crew we have over is WON-DERFUL. I am already sad that they'll be leaving eventually. Very down-to-earth, good humored, polite, reliable, earthy, humble, you name it, they are these things. During one of their breaks, I began talking to one gal, and we discovered we had the same birthday, share the same love of music, and determined we'll get together in the future. She's fabulous, and my son adores her. He's renamed her Kathryn, though. She doesn't seem to mind much.
My son will be three in a few weeks, and three-year-old temper tantrums are far worse than two-year-old ones, so this past week has been a living hell. Screaming, crying, lurching around, the works. And why? Because his sleeve was ... (insert issue). Who knows. Price of tea in China, for all I know or care. Today, I put him in his bed inconsoable, and walked out. About five minutes later, my son is standing at the top of the stairs, sobbing, pants off, diaper half-hanging on, and he is declaring in-between the sobs that mommy WILL go sing him night-night songs.
I cut my finger a few weeks ago while slicing up green beans. I had had some horrible news about a friend, was distracted and tried to amputate my finger. It finally healed. Then, the other night, I was distracted by my son running by with something he shouldn't have, as well as wielding a sharpie marker, so sliced the SAME THUMB just below the healed part.
See below:
I started to cry, because really, hanging flesh plus yellow onion just doesn't feel so good. My son came over and offered me his blankie. Damn cutest thing in the world. Mommy had to suck it up after that with a Spongebob band-aid and some toddler TLC.
First of all, more of THIS stupid weather. Enough already. Snow Fairies, I give THEE my middle finger!!
We recently had ANOTHER leak. This time, my husband can claim that it wasn't from the fish tank. Sadly, it was coming from above the fish tank room (laundry room) and had been leaking through his tank room, into the basement. And for those of you keeping score at home, this makes the second time in two months we've had that shit repaired. The last time, we dealt with a nut for a drywall guy, and if you'd like to revisit the Hell that was my life then, READ THIS POST AND RELIVE THE HELL THAT WAS MY LIFE.
After throwing the world's biggest temper tantrum and screaming my bloody head off about it all (because really, after going through all of that??), we found another drywall dude to come in and fix the mess. Nice enough guy, did the work and got out in record time. He did manage to get some chunks of paint and drywall into a sump tank behind HDH's fish tank, but I got that how before any real damage was done. Because, well, I do kick ass.
We are also having our house painted on the inside. The painting crew we have over is WON-DERFUL. I am already sad that they'll be leaving eventually. Very down-to-earth, good humored, polite, reliable, earthy, humble, you name it, they are these things. During one of their breaks, I began talking to one gal, and we discovered we had the same birthday, share the same love of music, and determined we'll get together in the future. She's fabulous, and my son adores her. He's renamed her Kathryn, though. She doesn't seem to mind much.
My son will be three in a few weeks, and three-year-old temper tantrums are far worse than two-year-old ones, so this past week has been a living hell. Screaming, crying, lurching around, the works. And why? Because his sleeve was ... (insert issue). Who knows. Price of tea in China, for all I know or care. Today, I put him in his bed inconsoable, and walked out. About five minutes later, my son is standing at the top of the stairs, sobbing, pants off, diaper half-hanging on, and he is declaring in-between the sobs that mommy WILL go sing him night-night songs.
I cut my finger a few weeks ago while slicing up green beans. I had had some horrible news about a friend, was distracted and tried to amputate my finger. It finally healed. Then, the other night, I was distracted by my son running by with something he shouldn't have, as well as wielding a sharpie marker, so sliced the SAME THUMB just below the healed part.
See below:
I started to cry, because really, hanging flesh plus yellow onion just doesn't feel so good. My son came over and offered me his blankie. Damn cutest thing in the world. Mommy had to suck it up after that with a Spongebob band-aid and some toddler TLC.
I am leaving on FRIDAY to go see Miss Fyrchk in DC, and we will be having dinner with the fabulous FreshAirLover. I can hardly wait to get there. I will the one on the plane, jamming out to my MP3 player, reading my books, drinking wine, and generally not giving a crap about anything. Fyrchk has already stated she needs to know what my luggage looks like in case I'm too sloppy to remember. Wahooo, bitches!
I'm sure there's more to mention ... but I need to go have a glass of wine and decompress.
Mwah!
