So, yeah. I'm insane.

I've been having a weird day or two lately. (What else is new, huh?) I am therefore accepting no responsibility for the content of this post. There will be random and disjointed thought processes, bad-mommy comments, disgusting bodily function descriptions, and probably a little swearing. (Mom, Dad, In-Laws and Kids - look away. Quick.)

Funny thing I heard from an 8 year old boy (Anne's) and 7 year old boy (mine) as I was driving them home from school (clocked at a whopping 15 miles an hour):

8 y/o: "Man, nature goes by really fast!"
7 y/o: "I know! What if you could walk this fast?"
8 y/o: "Remember those dinosaur bones we found in my yard?"
7 y/o: "Yeah. Hey, that bird's trying to race our car!"

I did not alter this conversation. They really do bounce from topic to topic like that.
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Not-so-funny announcement from the same boys this morning on the way to the car, going to school.

7 y/o:
"Hey, Mom. Guess why we're happy today?"

Me:
" 'Cause it's Field Day?"

7 and 8 y/o in unison:
"No! 'Cause our track break starts tomorrow! Four weeks of no school!"

7 y/o:
" We can sleep in, play all day, and stay up late at night!"

Me:
"Good God. Are you kidding?" (Have only had half a cup of coffee. I'm standing there, with my hand on the door handle, frozen. Thank God they are on the other side of the car and can't see my face. I roll my eyes Heavenward, unlock the car and we all climb in.)

7 and 8 y/o in unison:
"No, we're not kidding!"

... uncomfortable pause ... then ...

7 y/o:
"Why did you say it like that?" (Sounds disappointed and a little hurt.)

Me:
"Um ... you just surprised me."

Spend the remainder of the drive to and from school (muttering "shit, shit, shit" in my head) trying to sort out how this could have snuck up on me. I mean, I have the school calendar on the fridge, for God's sake! I just never read it. Silently vow to blame Anne for this oversight. She's supposed to be much more together when it comes to stuff like this. She actually attends the PTA meetings. Yep, she's pretty brave. Those women scare the crap outta me.

Return home, check school calendar online and realize the boys were right but slightly off. Track break starts at the end of NEXT week. Takes some of the sting away but I'm still dreading those four weeks. They'll spend every day together and then pretty soon they'll get so sick of the sight of each other we'll be dealing with daily (or hourly) arguments. And then they'll get sick of the parents and we'll get sick of them, and the grown-ups (ha!) will start counting the days 'till they go back to school. I really hate 12-month schools.

Then start calculating the amount of time daughter has left in her 9-month school year and realize that very soon after son goes back after track break - daughter will be beginning her summer vacation. Three months long.

Damn.
I'm a bad, selfish Mommy.

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Very strange observation of the week:
(this is the bodily function part - you may want to skip ahead)

When a person drinks half a pot of coffee by herself - with enough sugar and milk added to achieve what her husband labels "hummingbird coffee" ... her pee will smell like Sugar Smacks cereal.
I know it's gross but I warned you.

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My father-in-law used to give me Peeps every Easter - but only after he's cut open the package so they'd get nice and stale. (The only correct way to eat Peeps.) I loved this, until I apparently reached maximum density for Peep tolerance and lost my taste for them. So he stopped giving me Peeps. No problem.

I did retain my sweet tooth. (Which my son thinks is a specific, real tooth in your head. I am such a great influence.)
I admit to stashing a bag of Christmas M&M's in a bowl on the top shelf in our cupboards. I do put some out in bowls - but they disappear really quickly. I refill the bowls, but I always have a little hidden away.
I admit to hiding boxes of cookies in the pantry. I do this because if the little stinks find them - or if I dare put them in the cookie jar - POOF !! Gone.
And I happen to like an ice cold glass of milk and a cookie at 3 a.m.

However, this past week my sweet tooth made me look like (more of) an idiot. My father-in-law gave my hubby a box of Zingers to bring home to the kids. (And a bag of apples and oranges - he's not all bad.) When I saw the box of pseudo-Twinkies I protested "No fair! I hate those!" - because I can't stand baked coconut. To which my dear hubby replied, "Yeah. He sent these to make sure the kids actually got some."

(sigh)

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O.K. Enough of that. I'm going back to those articles I'm doing for my freelance job. I am so horribly behind in my deadline it's shameful.

I'd like to explain to my client that it's because 1) It's my first freelance gig and had no idea just how long it would take me (and my OCD) to write 50 articles. 2) I didn't realize until much later that I should have scheduled my writing time much better. 3) I am so effing freaked about this whole ARM / house / money situation that most days I am sick to my stomach with worry and can't write a good article to save my life. I can't even think in coherent sentences. 4) The writing (blogging) I have been doing has been primarily light-hearted and goofy because it's the only way I can see some humor in the midst of the anxiety.

But I know that would be ridiculously unprofessional to list all those excuses to her. I just have to buckle down and get it done. Even if it kills me. Even if she writes a negative but totally deserved review on my profile and I never get another freelance job.

I have discovered that I can produce 5 articles in one day, while the oh-my-God-I-can't-let-her-down sweat trickles down my back. Moreover, they don't totally suck. I just had to reign in the OCD a little and not nitpick them to pieces before I moved on to the next one.

Alright, whiner. Enough of this. I'm done sharing all these little worries and scars and blemishes. I really can't believe I'm going to publish this post. Better do it now before I change my mind - and better get my ass in gear and write!!