Running Down your Family

I am livid. Absolutely livid and just about ready to hire Dog the Bounty Hunter. Okay, yes I know his line of work does not involve tracking down two year olds but this is how angry I am today. Tess moved into the Toddler Room at daycare on Monday. If you recall, yesterday was Wednesday, so day 3 in said toddler room. Tess has been attacked on the face for the past 3 days by the same kid. Apparently there is a 2 year old in this world and he has a grudge he has decided to express on my daughter’s face. YES! Her FACE! I am so pissed. Her entire right cheek is clawed to hell. Last night I spent my evening in Urgent Care with a starving 1 year old who didn’t want to cooperate with the doctor. Why Urgent Care, because yesterday the little bastard scratched her eyeball…and drew blood.
After several tantrums, because she was starving and we had to wait for freaking ever, we spend approximately 15 minutes with the P.A.; get our prescription and make a bee-line to McDonalds…sounds smooth right? Well, during the hour wait to get to see the P.A. I watched as everyone who came in after us leave before us. Yep, if you sniffled, sneezed, coughed or wheezed they slapped you with one of those protective little masks and moved you to the front of the line. You know, because you weren’t sick all day/week and couldn’t wait one more day to go into the clinic. No, you have to clog up the Urgent Care line so they can tell you to go home, sleep, get plenty of fluids and buy yourself some over the counter relief. And because you did this I’m left with a screaming baby in the waiting room. Am I being a selfish martyr? Probably. It’s just so frustrating to see the waste of time for the hospital all because you don’t want to be confined by the order of appointments and doctor offices.
I’m at my wits end and feeling the need to take out a two year old. I won’t, because I know some day Tess will be the one beating up someone else’s kid. But I know that I will feel like shit every time I sign off on that incident report, and a piece of me only hopes that this kid’s mom feels that way too.

WTH?!

Honestly, I have no idea what my original intentions were for this blog. And quite obviously I have neglected it. Creativity in regards to topics is not my strong suit. Bitching about random things however, well I speak “Bitch” fluently.
After a weekend of acting like a 22 year old (which was mmmrppph years ago) I realized that I am just too old for that shit. Partying until 2 in the morning, not such a hot idea when the darling daughter still goes to bed at 7:30 and rises cheerily at 6A.M and you do not have the cash flow of Snoop Dog.
Upon the awakening from the sounding alarm down the hall I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror and give that foolish woman the good ol’ talk of “What the hell were you thinking”. Well, I wasn’t. I was thinking…mmmmm yummy! Wine! And I was thinking “OH MY GAWD…FREEDOM!!!” I was hanging out with the girls. So yea, Saturday morning…slightly rough, but not outrageously so. The trouble is that I made a repeat offense on Saturday night, but in costume. (I rocked that afro) Only to have to rise again to my precious alarm clock and drag myself at a mach speed of “snail” so we could make the hour and a half drive to great grandma’s to celebrate her 91st year in this world.
I survived, the hubz survived, and the Monkey bounced along happily. Please, no more wine until Saturday.