Running Amuck

Okay, okay....just to let all of my concerned fans out there know:

I am emotionally okay. I have not committed suicide. Or homicide. I am still married to my darling husband. I see no divorce in the immediate future, but that is always subject to change at my whim.

Thank you to all of you who inquired, asked and generally voiced your concern. I love y'all. It was just one of those days. Two days.

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I have been running amuck for two solid days now and the end is in sight. Tomorrow morning I will leave the house (Yes! You read that right. I'll actually leave the house!) at 7:45 and will not return to the Ranch here until Sunday afternoon. I am running away from home. But unlike when I was 13 and had plans to work in diners and rent crappy one-lightbulb-lit, sparsely furnished apartments with my best friend who was also running away with me, I will actually return home.

I'm taking a Selfish Vacation. Not a "Vacay" because well, I'm not 17 and it just sounds pitiful coming from a 33 year old stressed out mother.

And along with leaving my house attended only by my husband for two days comes masses of laundry and dishes and other not-normally-done chores because he will do nothing but fish, sleep, watch COPS and porn and eat sandwiches while I'm gone. Nothing else will be done. Plus I'm leaving the daycare in the able hands of Jen. The Lord be with her. I have written out a three page detailed list of our routines, little tips and hints and an hour by hour schedule and a vast list of emergency phone numbers. It's not that I don't think she's going to be fine, it just makes me feel better to write it out so she'll have it if she needs it. I used to do the same thing with my mother when Abby was a baby. She'd just nod her head and then promptly toss it when I left. Jen will probably do the same. And I'm okay with that. I just have to obsess a little before I go.

Sam's class is going on a field trip tomorrow and I'm going with them. I love going on field trips with his class. More than with Abby's class. Not that I love him more, but because the little girls in his class think I am The Shit. Even Hillbilly Mom confirmed that yes, I am The Shit, so it must be true. But these little girls just want to be with me constantly, want to sit by me, hold my hand, eat lunch with me and best of all - they tell me I'm pretty!! Not OH SO PRETTY, like Hillbilly Mom, but still pretty. The little girls in Abby's class are well, frankly, pretty much standoffish. I hope that the girls in Sam's class don't turn out that way by the time they hit 3rd grade because 1) that will just crush my ego and 2) my son could very well end up dating one (or two or three) of them eventually. I don't think they will - the girls in Ab's class have always been that way. Kindergarten and up, aloof, standoffish and they don't tell me I'm pretty. That simply will not do. I have always been closer to the boys in Abby's class because see, when I spend time in her class she is attached to my hip and along with Abby comes a herd of little boys. They really like her. Up until this year it's been because she just plays better with boys, she likes what they like (most of the time) and she can play their games. This year things have changed. Boys are not just for playing with, but for giggling over as well. She still only has eyes for *Chance*, though. (Insert little hearts here) So Mr. Diva is going with Abby's class to the aquarium next week. That way he can hang out with all the little boys that are hanging out with his daughter. Oh my gosh, those poor boys.

Sam's class is going to a cave. Whoo hoo, a cave. I can hardly wait. I will double up on my Xanax, Prozac and carry a flask of whiskey in my pocket along with my cell phone which will be rendered useless underground but just in case I need it to throw at a herd of wild bats which might decide my hair looks like a playground I'll have it. Whew. That was quite a runon sentence. Mrs. Coach admonished in an email this morning that I should not wear my Daisy Dukes because the cave is somewhere around 69 degrees. Dang, I already had them laid out and everything. And a tube top, too. No, even the bats aren't ready for that. But now I at least know to take a jacket. Thanks, Mrs!

Then after the field trip is over and the kids are headed back to school, I am going into Springfield to buy bras!!!! (Yes, four exclamation points really were necessary there.)

I can't handle the Uniboob anymore. The speedbump on my chest that should be two rather roundish, attractive uhhh......humps.....yeah.......well, I just can't handle it anymore. Be damned, ye Uniboob!