Gross Stuff and a turkey named...Amy
Welcome back to the blog!
It's Monday! And the only way I'm staying awake is by propping my lids open with cute little exclamation points! Just in case you're feeling the same way, here's an extra one or two!!!! Whee, exclamation points!!
It is my firm belief that vacations in kid and people-who-work-outside-the-home world are in fact overtime for most work at home moms. I am flat out beat. Beat down. Exhausted. I love my family dearly, but it was time for them to go back to work and school and for all of them to cease being sickly immediately.
All the snotting and coughing and festering is giving me a nervous tic...or two or three.
Note to those without children: It's an interesting fact that small people lack the ability to blow their own noses until they are alarming large. Think, three or four years of age for the more advanced rugrats. And until such time as they learn to blow the nasty from their face, their parents are in charge of sucking the boogies out for them with a little sucky-thing that looks kind of like a miniature turkey baster. Gross, right! Totally gross! Icky sticky nasty gross!! Ew!!!
(Sorry, I needed a few more exclamation points for propping-up-the-lids purposes.)
Oh, the snot I have sucked in the past three weeks. Probably enough to fill up a milk gallon and still have mucous left over to...do something else with...other than put it in a gallon once occupied by milk.
Um...yeah. So gross. The gross just won't stop...and I guess I'm done blogging now.
Oh, right. The post is supposed to be about gross stuff and turkeys.
In other news, my turkey's name was Amy. It said so right there on the tag that I cut off before I stripped her from her plastic container and rubbed her with olive oil and garlic salt. I think that's just plain wrong. They also listed her weight for the entire world to read and--as a fellow female--that really made me feel for her. (Though it was helpful to know how much Amy weighed for timing the length of her roasting and all that.)
So...yeah. Thank you, Amy, for your sacrifice. Thank you kids and husband for going back to the places you go when you're not home all the time expecting entertainment and snot sucking (though the baby is still here with me and still snotty, he's easier to manage when it's just me and him chillin' with our gnomes...or whatever). And thank you universe for a lovely Thanksgiving.
Despite the bitching, I have a great deal to be thankful for. Hope you all had a wonderful holiday weekend.
Let's get out there and kick December's ass people!!!
Stacey Jay
It's Monday! And the only way I'm staying awake is by propping my lids open with cute little exclamation points! Just in case you're feeling the same way, here's an extra one or two!!!! Whee, exclamation points!!
It is my firm belief that vacations in kid and people-who-work-outside-the-home world are in fact overtime for most work at home moms. I am flat out beat. Beat down. Exhausted. I love my family dearly, but it was time for them to go back to work and school and for all of them to cease being sickly immediately.
All the snotting and coughing and festering is giving me a nervous tic...or two or three.
Note to those without children: It's an interesting fact that small people lack the ability to blow their own noses until they are alarming large. Think, three or four years of age for the more advanced rugrats. And until such time as they learn to blow the nasty from their face, their parents are in charge of sucking the boogies out for them with a little sucky-thing that looks kind of like a miniature turkey baster. Gross, right! Totally gross! Icky sticky nasty gross!! Ew!!!
(Sorry, I needed a few more exclamation points for propping-up-the-lids purposes.)
Oh, the snot I have sucked in the past three weeks. Probably enough to fill up a milk gallon and still have mucous left over to...do something else with...other than put it in a gallon once occupied by milk.
Um...yeah. So gross. The gross just won't stop...and I guess I'm done blogging now.
Oh, right. The post is supposed to be about gross stuff and turkeys.
In other news, my turkey's name was Amy. It said so right there on the tag that I cut off before I stripped her from her plastic container and rubbed her with olive oil and garlic salt. I think that's just plain wrong. They also listed her weight for the entire world to read and--as a fellow female--that really made me feel for her. (Though it was helpful to know how much Amy weighed for timing the length of her roasting and all that.)
So...yeah. Thank you, Amy, for your sacrifice. Thank you kids and husband for going back to the places you go when you're not home all the time expecting entertainment and snot sucking (though the baby is still here with me and still snotty, he's easier to manage when it's just me and him chillin' with our gnomes...or whatever). And thank you universe for a lovely Thanksgiving.
Despite the bitching, I have a great deal to be thankful for. Hope you all had a wonderful holiday weekend.
Let's get out there and kick December's ass people!!!
Stacey Jay