Randomness

So, I have had several different blog posts floating around in my head for the past two weeks, and since none of them have made it to the screen yet, you can see how on top of things I am right now.  And considering that my focus word for 2014 is "discipline", that does not bode well for the new year.  Which, let's be honest, any of you who read my last post are thinking, "Why would this surprise us?", since I melted down over dinner hijinks the second day of the year.  Sigh.

However, I got an e-mail that I thought might be a sign I should post something tonight, since it was a notification that someone had left a comment on the Girlfriends and Gummy Bears post.  And I was really excited about this because no one comments on my posts.  Ever.  I have been told, by those who love me, that this is because it is impossible to do so and takes forever and you have to keep typing in the secret word to be sure you're not a robot or automated techno-thingy that sends random e-mails or whatever out at intervals.  I know, my technological knowledge is astounding.  I don't understand how any of this works, really.  And I really don't understand why a robot would want to read this anyway - I hear they have minimal comedic appreciation.

I digress.  So, I opened up the e-mail to see what "anonymous" thought of vintage River Chick humor, and this is what I read:

 Another note is the fact that ports won't admit non-operable vehicle for roll-on 
roll-off transport service. If people are within the car along,
they will feel the tension inside air and you'll all wish you shipped the 
automobile instead. It's critical that when somebody realized the requirement 
to send his car, she must start gaining car shipping quotes as soon as he is able 
to.

It then had a link to a corvette site.  Now, we have established that I am no cyber-genius, but even I know that is not a genuine comment - it doesn't even mention gummy bears....or girlfriends.  And is probably an automated message (someone might want to tell Blogger that while the humans can't figure out how to comment, the machines are doing just fine getting past the squiggly secret word).  Or possibly has something to do with hacking - which I am paranoid about right now because someone in India and another someone in Buenos Aires keep trying to use my e-mail account.  And my Twitter account got hacked and is sending out "amazing business opportunity" links to people on my list (if you are one of those, I apologize.  Don't open it).  The joke is on the hacker, though.  I mean, really....I don't understand Twitter, either, so haven't been on there in 6-7 months.  Plus, if you know me at all, you would never for one second believe that I know anything about business, either, much less try to guide another person in an opportunity in that realm.  So, ha!

To continue my rage against the machines....I keep getting strange pop-ups.  Like the one I just saw, boldly and in all caps proclaiming the must-see Spanish video - tag line stating that if you don't know Spanish, you have got to watch this video!  What?  Why?  If it's in Spanish, how is someone who doesn't know the language supposed to get any of the amazingness out of it?  Aye de mi......

I warned you....random.  In my defense, I am very tired.  And a little anxious.  Gregg flew out for his National Sales Meeting today, and we all know how well things go for me when he leaves town.  I am approaching this week with a fair dose of trepidation.

On the up side, there should be plenty of fodder for my next (better written and much more interesting) post.

Solidarity, sisters.  A little random never hurt anyone.

This Beer Tastes Like Fish....

It's 2014.  Seriously....how on Earth did that happen?  And why aren't we all driving flying cars?  Because, honestly, when I think back to my (much) younger years, that's one of the features I always assumed would be a part of this time period.  I know I'm not alone on this one.  Anyone?  Anyone?

There are so many amazing posts and articles out right now about starting off the new year, renewed and refreshed, ready for the challenges and growth this affords us.  You can read a plethora of literature addressing how to find your mojo this time around, or challenging you to change/grow/etc.  There are "Best of" posts, inspirational reads, reflective memoirs and political statements.  You name it, they've written it.  I, myself, have started a New Year's blog three separate times, determined to join the ranks of writers aspiring to wow the masses with a fresh take on kicking things off.  I have favorite holiday memories, nostalgic moments from 2013, goals and dreams for 2014, and verses and/or quotes galore.

And I've decided not to write about any of them.  This decision was not born out of any particular design or statement of rebellion or creative genius....I'm not that profound today.  I simply don't have it in me to pull that off right now - mostly because it would not be at all authentic, since it's the second day of the year, and I already had an epic meltdown.  This evening.  At dinner.

It's embarrassing. 

Yet, in the interest of full disclosure and my continued commitment to entertain (or horrify) those of you who bless me by reading these posts, I will share my fallacy with you, my friends.

We had a great holiday.  It was crazy and beautiful and blessed, as are most events in my life.  The kids are enjoying being home.  I didn't work last week, and Gregg is off this week, which takes away the stress of child care as I go back to work, but also makes me a little bitter because every morning I have left for work this week everyone else is still sleeping.

I am also having technology frustration (which is nothing new, machines hate me) because my brand new I-phone 5 decided to stop working.  As in, weird screen issues leading up to the stupid thing not turning on at all.  I've had it 20 days.  Which is par for the course, since Sprint doesn't let you change them out without hassle or without the chance of getting a refurbished phone after 14 days.  Fabulous.  I'll be jousting with the Apple people tomorrow.  Wish me luck.

So, I got home from work, completely discombobulated from the phone issue, which is no one's fault (at least no one I live with).  The house wasn't totally trashed.......to be fair, the boys had cleaned their room and Gregg had cleaned the shed (insert wry face here).  Everyone came running to greet me, Emry wearing pajama pants and no shirt (seriously?).  We got dinner pulled together, got kids to the table after only five final calls and started a relatively pleasant meal....which somehow morphed into meal time at a frat house.  We went from crazy stories with incredibly loud interruptions to "that's what she said" cracks (even in my horror I couldn't stop laughing) to random name calling to belching rounds to milk spitting to a final culmination in a jalapeno pepper eating competition that ended with Drew freaking out and vomiting into my hands.  He then burst into tears, flapping his arms with an intensity that could have conceivably resulted in him taking flight.

And that is when I lost it.  The combination of my exhaustion, non-readiness to be back at work, phone frustration, lack of schedule and manners and anything remotely resembling civilized behavior that comes at the end of being out of school/routine for a prolonged period of time all served to push me completely over the edge and into crazy mommy land.  I believe my parting shot as I stormed out of the kitchen was, "I do not like any of you people!"  Say it with me, peeps.  Mother of the Year.

I then proceeded to bawl my eyes out for approximately ten minutes. 

Some days I truly pity my family.

However, the storm passed quickly, and we got (relatively) organized and cleaned up, did a popcorn and movie night (organic popcorn, popped in an air popper and topped with fresh rolled butter - I work very hard to balance back into the good mommy arena after my less than stellar moments), and everyone was good to go.  Gregg brought us each a beer, patted me on the knee and we settled on the couch to watch football and eat our popcorn.  I took a sip of my beer, and then turned to Gregg with this gem, "This beer tastes like fish."  Without flinching or looking away from the game, he answered, "I'm sorry to hear that."

I love this man's ability to adapt.

I'm also impressed with the way he is becoming almost unshockable with my randomness. 

2014 is off to an incredible start.

Solidarity, sisters.  Every day is a new slate.