Like an Ostrich

I have been avoiding this blog because who wants to hear about sad mopey crap?

Instead I am posting far more frequently on my sewing blog. Because that's my happy place. When the world looks black, I have a headache, and my kids drive me crazy...I sew. I bury my head in fabric and patterns. I go out to my machines and put creative thought into physical results.

(The only hiccup in this scenario is when my dad goes out on the porch and stinks it up, and/or the kids come out and bug the living y'know out of me. Wright likes to stand behind me on my swivel chair and choke me with love. Violet needs a snack or attention about every 27 seconds. Yesterday, my dad SAT IN MY FREAKING SEWING CHAIR for a good 30 minutes reading his dang gun magazine. But I don't want to go into yesterday; I might start crying again.)

Sometimes when I'm really upset, I open up my laptop and go to my favorite online fabric shops. Staring at little pictures of pretty fabric usually does the trick, and I breathe easier within a few minutes. Honestly, some days here, thinking about fabric is the only thing that gets me through the day. Addiction? Maybe. Lifesaver? Definitely.

('Kay, now I sound like Kate Gosselin in that interview where she asked herself--and answered!--hypothetical questions the entire time.)

A lot of times I only have the mental presence to read fluffy fashion/sewing/celebrity gossip blogs off my Google Reader. I can't seem to get into any fiction lately; something like that might require more emotion than I'm willing to expend.

So, a typical day goes something like this:

8:00 - Stumble in my living room with coffee while the kids watch Nick Jr.. Hole up with my laptop and zone out. I am ridiculously sleep deprived and pretty much only awake because of the coffee, and also because I got tired of the kids jumping on my head.

9:00 - Grudgingly brave the kitchen to get some breakfast for us. I avoid the kitchen in the morning because my dad is in there from like, I swear, 6am - 10am. Sadly, even when I'm sure I've waited long enough that I won't run into him, my strategy often fails. I think that man must go into the kitchen at least 50x per day. Which is a lot for a man who doesn't cook.

10:00 - Deny the kids' request for more shows and force them to play with something. Maybe go outside. Wish I was more awake. Wish Wright slept through the night. Wish I had my own house.

12:00 - Make the kids a lunch they won't eat.

1:00 - 5:00 - If we have the car, go to the park. Run errands. Do an art activity or puzzles with the kids. Break up about a billion fights, administer timeouts. Watch more preschool programs. Do laundry.

7:00 - Sam finally gets home, and we put the kids to bed. This is horrible and usually requires laying down with them, threatening, and combating stall techniques.

8:30 - Take my shower and almost fall asleep under the spray.

9:30 - Zombie walk into the living room to spend time with Sam and watch our DVR'd shows.

11:00-12:00ish - Finally go to bed.

12:30 - Unable to sleep because of a) Violet loudly sucking her thumb and b) Wright tossing & turning & moaning.

1:00 - Pull Wright into bed. Wait for him to go back to sleep. Possibly change his diaper because he has stuck his hand down his diaper and peed all over himself. Between his wiggling all over the place and Sam taking up over 1/2 the bed, alternate between sleep limbo and awake.

2:00 - Finally fall asleep.

7:00 - Wake up to kids jumping on my head and a crippling fear of my dad's feet.