Irish Daisy

I pulled my back, I mean really pulled it, while helping clean my grandmother’s house last Friday. We were working hard to get things sorted and get it cleaned before the memorial on Saturday, and somewhere in frenzy of weeding, tossing, dusting, wiping and hauling, I wrenched my back the wrong way. Then, on Saturday I did a lot of sitting – in cars, on floors, plastic chairs, lumpy ottomans, more cars. And on Sunday I could not get up. Literally, back was not working, so neither were the legs. Laughing really hurts when you have a knot the size of a softball in the long muscles of your back. I mean really hurts – stabbing pain from my mid back down to my right ankle. But it was so ridiculous, my husband trying to haul my petrified, mummy self off the bed, I couldn't stop laughing between gasps, curses, and yelps. He finally had to leave so that I could gradually roll my groaning self to the edge of the bed and off the side. Luckily our bed is high, so I landed more o...

I haven’t been writing much lately because I've been busy killing myself instead.  No, not really, but the 5.5 hours of sleep a night I've been clocking lately will surely do me in sooner or later. Fortunately, coffee! The massive sleep deprivation is the result of trying to fit the work of 2.5 people into a single life. How does one do this you may ask? By not sleeping, for one thing. For another, you do it by rushing from one thing to the next, doing – or pretending to do – several things at once, and by never, ever sitting down for more than 20 minutes.  Unless you're at the office, then you never get up until you're pretty sure you've developed a blood clot in your leg. Why might one do this? Well, I'm a full-time, management-level employee for a Fortune 1000 company – which takes some time if you want to do your job well, and I do. And I'm a mom of three kids – which takes some time if you want to do it well, and I really, really do. And then w...

I used to love three-day weekends until kids. Blissful days partying with friends, extra nights to hang out without having to get up early, the short work week that follows – three-day weekends were all around great with no downside at all. Now…I still love three-day weekends, but with a toddler in the house I really, really hate the Tuesday morning that follows – one where our entire toddler schedule of predictable events breaks down and her little world is crushed by variation (cue ominous music and weeping). Yesterday morning it resulted in wailing, hiding in my robe (while I was wearing it), three outfit changes, two sock changes, more wailing, grumpy cat impressions, refusals to let go of my leg, my arm, my hand…it was a trial for all of us. And we had to grit our teeth and stay really calm and patient lest we incite the Honey Badger into all-out rebellion – which they’re prone to anyway. Grumpy Badger Ah, Tuesday morning after a three-day weekend, there’s no day like it...