is the coolest cartoon EVER. Today it is anyway. Except for foster’s. Oh and justice league unlimited. Random stars Random stars
*Dateline-Saturday October 6. 1108am. Living room. Captain and crew are watching A BRAND NEW CODE LYOKO! I capitalize it because the preferred way to discuss the show is not to just call it by name but to sing A BRAND NEW CODE LYOKO! every time you mention it. You must do this until your five year old bursts out into screams telling you he cant take it anymore.
* So, Ive got more cleavage data to share. Back at the middle school (workplace of the guidance counselor looky lou, I think we will call him SHAZAM) V-neck. Not too low. Talking with ( probably more attractive than I) friend in crew top. Shazam ignored hot crew top friend. Had a jokey conversation with my chest. I really want to seriously commit to a long term analysis of this (“Examining The Correlation Between Low Cut Tops and Achieved Clinical Outcomes at the Middle School. A Longitudinal Study”) but I have a kid in crisis there now so the girls have to attend everything for the next few weeks.
* I had my heart break in a million pieces yesterday. A million pieces. (everyone is ok physically) The thing I hate the most is when everybody in a dynamic is someone i love or like and hurting still happens.
*I also hate it when someone tells me something extremely shocking and painful about their past, and I am not shocked. Because Ive wallowed in similar swamps of dysfunction before. Alone and with others. I hate being familiar with so much depravity.
* The past two items are unrelated.
* I meant to search my archives to find out how many times Ive actually posted about what a BAD IDEA it is to take my tired children shopping at night. Especially when my adderall is wearing down and my ADD is full force. I dont actually have words to describe last night’s visit to target, but ill try.
-Turnip: Scream. Climb.
-Norm: Have to go to the bathroom.
– Both children: (INEXPLICABLE DEAD SILENCE AND PERFECT BEHAVIOR IN BATHROOM)
– Turnip: Scream.
– Norm: “can we get my pokemon cards now?”
-Turnip: Cry. Smack
– Me: Struggle to pin climbing child down in cart.
– Turnip: Scream.
-Norm: can we get my pokemon cards now?”
-Turnip: Climb. Grab at merchandise.
-Norm: “can we get my pokemon cards now?”
-Me: Carry child while pushing cart. (ADD kicks in here).
Two walking children. Two hiding under racks children. One child back in cart Scream. Cry. One child firmly chastised for modeling dangerous behavior to his lttle brother.
-Norm: Have to go to the bathroom again. (INEXPLICABLE DEAD SILENCE AND PERFECT BEHAVIOR IN BATHROOM)
-Turnip: Scream. Cry. CLimb.
-Me: Pin down child in cart.
It went on. And on. And on. Children walked and rode and screamed and cried. And pokemon cards were gotten despite hiding in racks due to extremely redeemable and helpful five year old recovery behavior. And much outward apologizing and explaining to onlookers and store staff that I now realize this was a really bad idea. And much inward rage and resentment and desire to scream “OH? You think he’s tired? Well thank you OBI FUCKING WAN KENOBI! I thought the crack pipe i let him smoke when he came back from pimping his bad little diapered ass for me would keep him awake!” or “No jackass, he does NOT need a smack on the ass. If he was five, he might need one but he is TWO and it his PAST HIS BEDTIME and as you can see, despite the little mishap in the clothes racks the five year old also does not need smacked. But you do motherfucker!” or “Here is why i dont just take that poor baby home. He is part of a neo-Nazi clinical trial run by a high ranking German official who is disguised as a gerbil and lives in my dining room. We are doing an over stimulus sleep deprivation test on this child and ask that you do not interfere. I will express your concerns to Herr Goebells. But he will probably have you killed for it”.
I think i need some sort of 12 step program where i am not allowed to take them both somewhere alone until I call someone to talk me down. Gill clearly enables this although he did suggest I leave turnip home. “But he misses me! He will just cry!” Im such a fucking idiot. Anyway, thats enough for now.
* I will sign off with the possibility that I may just be on blogtalk radio tonight. Madame Fabu and I will be riding home from a wedding drunk off our asses. Nothing better than a group drunk dial from the road!