Mommy Wants Vodka

…Or A Mail-Order Bride

On My Honor.

October9

I happen to be one of those people who, when faced with periods of high stress, lack of sleep, or illness that tends to let themselves go with routine maintence. My children will always be well groomed, dressed in clean clothes, and well fed, but I find myself continually looking like I may actually be half dead. I’m so discouraged about my pregnancy weight gain that I find myself apologizing to complete strangers for it. Like they actually care one way or another (although I’m sure that my many nay-sayers are probably chuckling to themselves about it).

Today I realized that it had been ages since I have either plucked the ole’ caterpillers (which I am usually fastidious about, otherwise I look like Bert or Ernie), given myself a pedicure (I cannot handle small rude Asian women touching my feet and then complaining that I have not tipped them enough WHEN THEY WERE COMPLETELY RUDE TO ME. Ahem.), or taken a freaking shower. Gross. Most of this routineness can be attributed to a lack of sleep, a nasty sinus infection, the bloody heat, and a baby who has been in a terrible mood.

I took care of all of this today and I feel loads better about life in general, which reminds me that I need to be more vigilant about doing so on a more regular basis. I don’t have the time to consistantly make it to the gym (and am frequently thwarted by events outside of my own control), and a lengthy soak in the tub is sadly a thing of the past, oh and the tanning bed? That’s going to have to wait until I stop nursing, what with the burning of the nipples and all.

These are all things that I will get back in the habit of doing regularly when circumstances allow it. But with The Internet as my witness, I will start taking better care of myself with the things that I am able to do with my crazy schedule in the future.

(and I have chosen what I will do when I reach my prepregnancy weight. It involves a haircut and dye, because I am still under the misguided impression that my hair acts as somewhat of a weight-hiding mumu.)

OHMYGOD: on a totally unrelated note, the baby woke up from a nap as I was writing this, and I realized that I could hear water running. While trying to ascertain WHERE said water was coming from while going upstairs to get the baby, I found the culprit: the bathtub from which I had just showered AND ON MY HONOR TURNED OFF. It appears as though we have a ghost.

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