August30
I don’t know about you, but I was ready for a good weekend by the time this one rolled around! When I got off work on Friday afternoon, Aviean went with me to pick up Angelina from after-school care and Juliana and Olivia from day care. I was feeling some kind of weird inclination to cook for the girls, so we came home and I fixed stir-fry for us all. When Aunt Cate got off work, she stopped by the house to have game night with us and, of course, be mauled by little girls.
Saturday morning began at an hour I never wish to see again on a Saturday morning. I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned this before, but one of my greatest fears about having my own children has always been the lack of sleep. While I realize that makes me sound like an absolute pansy, I’d just like to go on the record as saying that I happen to require a lot of sleep to function as a kind, caring human being and, why yes, I am a pansy. I can own that.
And so, since we were up at the crack of dawn, we had a little breakfast, played a little dress-up, etc. Around 10 a.m., I dropped Ryan’s girls off at his apartment and headed out with Aviean for her one-on-one date at the farm. I am really concerned about the fact that, if we keep visiting the farm this fall, eventually I’m going to end up with various farm animals running around my house as little girls chase them down. As I’m typing this, my little puppy Cuddles is looking at me and I’m just overwhelmed with love for animals (I mean, not all animals, just two day old baby chicks, small piglets and cute puppies). This is coming from the girl who used to declare that she — wait for it — hated animals. Who have I become? And don’t you think that a little baby piglet would be a cute addition to the menagerie at my house?
(Just kidding, mom.)
(Actually, speaking of piglets and my mom, while I was growing up, I wasn’t really allowed to eat bacon or sausage because my mom was kind of “against” it. For most of my life, my mom was a single mom and dated various men. She used to say — quite literally — that “lips that touched swine, would never touch mine {hers}.”)
(She married a man who eats “swine,” just FYI. I can only assume they never kiss.)
(To this day, whenever I put bacon bits on my salad, I feel wildly rebellious.)
I had all the girls back at my house by Saturday afternoon (MacKenzie was supposed to come down this weekend but couldn’t because of a stomach virus, so I had four of the fab five), so the rest of the day went by in a flurry of naps for the little girls, laundry and a quest to reorganize my kitchen cabinets. Ever since the fab five came barreling into my life, turning my house into a home has been at the forefront of my mind. I suppose I’m nesting, which is hard do with up to five baby birds flapping around my house on any given day. Especially since one of them (I’m not naming any names, OLIVIA) enjoys hiding various “surprises” in cabinets and drawers throughout my house when I’m not looking.
I didn’t feel too swell by the time Saturday evening rolled around, so I returned all four kidlets even though I didn’t want to. Within a couple of hours, I had a full-blown migraine, something I rarely get but could feel coming on. I took some medicine and hopped into bed early, planning to get up and try a new church out on Sunday morning.
Unfortunately, the migraine was still making its home in my head when I woke up so, after trying to fight it for a few hours, I made myself go to a walk-in clinic since I didn’t have anything powerful enough to treat it at home. I wish you could have seen me sitting there in the waiting room, hands over my face in an effort to block out sound and light. I kept silently telling myself that I wasn’t allowed to start feeling bad for myself, because there’s nothing like a little feeling unwell to trigger intense feelings of “WHY AM I ALONE IN LIFE?” followed by tears while I sit alone at the pharmacy waiting for my prescription. Hey, at least I’m honest.
The rest of Sunday was spent sleeping on and off, watching a little Netflix and reading from a new book I bought called My Single Mom Life. I felt a little weird buying it in the bookstore, especially given the fact that I’m not anyone’s actual, you know, mother, but oh my goodness, I cannot put this book down. I know this might sound strange to you, but since I take care of the girls on my own when they’re in my care, I do feel like a single mom a lot of the time. I’m already loving the book, so maybe I’ll blog my way through it a bit?
And now it is Monday morning and time for another busy work week. I also turn 26 this week; I felt my stomach sink as I typed those words. I’m a little scared of this birthday, mainly because I’m afraid of what emotions will come with turning another year older. I can’t believe I’m going to be 26 years old… whoa. When did I become an adult?