Cartoonist, Artist, Geek, Evil Crafter, Girl Scout Troop Leader and Writer. Also, a zombie. I haven't slept in I don't know how long.

Did I Mention That I F*@#ed Up My Knee Again?

It was one of those freak martial arts accidents. I was sparring with someone – nothing formal, just some practice stuff – and I threw a front kick. Just as I did, the woman I was sparring threw a round kick. It came just a fraction of a second after my kick and it hooked under my kicking leg and spun me off center. I heard this loud popping noise as my knee tried to bend from side to side rather than front to back and that was it. My right knee is now officially f*@#ed up.

I can actually walk on it, and in fact was able to walk off the mat Thursday night when I hurt it. But it’s stiff and I can’t straighten it or bend it all the way. Plus it’s swollen and not too stable. I’m limping around and I’m not too pleased about it. This makes one broken nose, two incidents of broken ribs, one fractured sternum and three f*@#ed up knees (the right one now having been f*@#ed up twice) thanks to martial arts.

But considering how long I’ve been taking martial arts, that’s not really that bad.

Ow.

Eek! I Just Bought Some Clothes!

I don’t believe it. I just bought some new boots, a new belt, a new swimsuit and a digital timer on Amazon. I’m freaking out! I spent around $100 for the whole lot, which isn’t bad considering what I could have spent, but still, $100! I hate buying clothes. No, wait, I hate spending money. I actually like buying clothes, so long as I’m doing it online. I hate shopping in malls, especially with the kids in tow, because I can never get anything done. But I’m all right with buying clothes, until I get to the money part.

But, I need new clothes. I need another swimsuit, especially after blowing out my knee last night. It’s going to be a long time before I can run, so it’s back to swimming three times a week, and we may just stay there for a good, so I’ll have to get another swimsuit in addition to the one I got. And I needed the shoes. All I’ve got is sneakers, sandals and hiking boots. What I got was ankle boots, which are a little dressier but great with jeans. And I’ve been wanting a belt for some time, just a little accessory to dress up my wardrobe. The one I got is black leather with pink skulls. How cool is that!

And the timer? It’ll go on a lanyard around my neck (probably the ultra-cool Pirates of the Caribbean one Rachel got me for Christmas). I’ll be using it to force me to stick to my schedule, so I don’t run too long and screw up everything that’s supposed to come after. I tend to do that.

In fact, I’m running too long now. Gotta get back to work.

But EEEEEK! I bought clothing! Holy cow!

Why I Didn’t Get My Lazy Ass Out Of Bed At 5AM

Here are my top five reasons for why I did not get my lazy ass out of bed at 5AM like I was supposed to every morning last week. Okay, I know some of you are going, “Why the hell is she getting out of bed at 5AM?” The answer is, “So I can get some work done before the kids wake up and start screaming!” And you probably still don’t get it, so never mind. Here are my reasons.

1 – I stayed up way too late the night before, and needed more than four hours of sleep to function properly that day.

2 – I went back to evening karate classes, so I’m dead tired and I hurt like hell the next morning. Not getting up if I don’t feel good. Plus I stayed up too late the night before.

3 – For once, I got to bed on time, but then my oldest daughter came running into the room at midnight screaming that there was a storm in her room. “Honey, there’s a storm outside. It’s not in your room.” It took fifteen minutes to get her back to bed, just long enough to totally screw up a good night’s sleep.

4 – Oldest daughter came running back into my bedroom a second time, three hours later, screaming that the cats were under her bed. “Are they our cats?” I ask. “Uh-huh!” she says, nodding. “Then why are you scared?” I ask. “I’m not. They just woke me up.” Grooooooan.

5 – Top reason why I did not get out of bed at 5AM. I dreamt that my husband was a young, naked Antonio Banderas, and he offered to take me bowling. When the alarm went off at 5AM, I turned the damned thing off, curled up to my husband and went back to sleep. Hell, do you know how long it’s been since we’ve had a date? No way was I missing that one.

And there you have it. My excuses for sleeping until 7AM. Ta-taa!

I Want To Blog…

I really, really do, but stuff keeps coming up. You know, it was so easy to blog when Sam was an infant. She nursed 12 times a day, so all I did was sit in the glider and type away on my laptop. Now when I nurse Sam, I spend all my time trying to keep her fingers out of my hair, my ears, my nose, my eyes… That little fart keeps thrashing and twisting in my arms, and then she’ll roll over and thump me in the chest, as if to say, “More milk, lady! These boobies aren’t working fast enough!” And the chewing! My god, I’ll be lucky if I have any nipples left by the time this kid weans.

What were we originally talking about? Oh yeah, blogging, or my lack there of. It’s kind of difficult these days…

Still Kicking

So I’m still sort of hanging onto the blogosphere by my fingernails. It’s calmed down a bit around here, but I’m still juggling a few things, which is why I don’t post so often. It occurs to me that it was much easier to post when Sam nursed twelve times a day, because then I was spending a lot more time sitting the glider with the laptop pulled up to me while I fed her. Sam only nurses 2-3 times a day now, though, so I no longer have that mandatory sit-in-front-of-the-computer-so-I-don’t-go-crazy-while-nursing-the-baby-time anymore.

Both Michael and Sam are sick. I’m fighting to keep Cassie and me from getting whatever creeping crud they have. I’m so tired of trying to work around someone being sick. On Wednesday I had to take Cassie to the doctor for a check up. Every time I go, I have to initial a privacy statement. They give me the same paper each time, with a new date stamped on the bottom where I’m supposed to initial. I took a look at how many times I’d been in the doctor’s office with Cassie since August and I nearly fell over. Since June I’ve brought Cassie in seven times. And that’s just Cassie. I’ve also had quite a few appointments for Sam as well. And I’ve been to see my own doctor on two occasions during that time period. Why the hell can’t we stay out of the doctor’s office?

Every time one of the kids gets sick, it kills my exercise schedule. I’ve been trying to go to the day time classes at the karate dojo. Normally, I pack up some toys and a snack for Sam and I let her play on the side in a play pen while I take class. But I can’t go if either she or Cassie are sick, and I won’t go if I’m sick, so I’ve missed a lot of classes over the last few months. I’m feeling the effects too. We had a test Thursday night, and even though I wasn’t testing, I was reviewing, and man did I feel shaky on a lot of things. I’m having the same problem just getting into the gym. I can’t go if I’ve got a sick kid. The nursery won’t take ’em. Yet it seems to me that Sam always, ALWAYS gets sick within a week of me returning to the gym. I suspect it’s because someone else is bringing in their sick kid and just infecting the rest of the population. I’d like to catch the parents that do that sort of thing and slap the crap out of them. Really I would.

But anyway, I took this review Thursday night, and I was dragging. Michael was sick, Sam was sick, I haven’t been in class or to the gym much, and my interest in karate has been pretty low. I had to force myself to go to the test, and when I got there I wasn’t happy. Usually Michael and I get a sitter for the kids and we go together so it’s like a date (yeah, I know, a really weird date where we beat each other up), but he was sick so I had to go alone. Whine, whine, whine. And I went through the test, wondering what I was doing there. I just didn’t feel like I could hang, you know? I did not have my act together, and I hate feeling like that. There’s nothing that annoys me more than to see a black belt who can’t do their katas properly or keep up with the rest of the class. That’s a lazy black belt, and I realized that’s what I had become. Lazy.

I can’t just blame everything on the kids being sick. If I wanted to, I could have found a way to fit in the practice time and the class time. In fact, I have. After hearing my instructor complain about having the play pen in the dojo, I got kind of pissed. It’s a lot of work for me to show up to that day time class, what with having to feed Sam right before we go, and then packing toys and a snack and some juice, and then having to set up that damned play pen (it’s a bear to unfold), and then I get to go through class gritting my teeth every time she makes a noise because I know the instructor expects her to be quiet, but she’s only 18 months old, for pete’s sake. And so after his complaining, I kind of went on a tear about how hard it is for me to even get there and how I’m sick of missing classes and I realized that the afternoon classes weren’t even all that challenging anymore anyway so why was I going? I mean, I don’t even break a sweat when I’m there and that’s not good.

At some point, in the middle of this rant (which my poor husband had to listen to), I realized that if I wanted to change things, I was going to have to CHANGE things. In other words, I was going to have to drop the afternoon classes and start going to the evening classes instead. It’s the perfect solution. Michael stays home in the evenings, so I don’t have to take bring in Sam. If he’s watching the kids, I don’t have to worry about missing class because one of them is sick (although if I’m sick, forget it – I’m still not going). I can still take the same amount of classes if I double up one of the evenings I go and take a regular class along with that evening’s specialty class (black belt training or weapons training). Yeah, it would be perfect.

Except that my lazy ass didn’t want to do it.

Why? The evening classes are harder, for starters. The daytime classes are filled with older students who have various injuries (like me with my bum knees). The evening classes are mostly younger students. They’re also run by some really tough instructors, one of whom used to run the daytime class (back when it was a kick-ass class to take). And they spar a lot more in the evening classes. Sparring is hard work, let me tell you. It’s not only potentially painful if you get hit (and I know because I’ve had some ribs broken, plus both knees, plus my nose), but it’s also very aerobically demanding. In fact, an evening of sparring is just plain frickin’ exhausting.

But that’s what I want, right? Tougher classes, more time in class, a chance to feel like I’m worth my black belt?

My lazy ass started making excuses right away. “I have two bad knees — what if I get injured while sparring?” “I haven’t taken classes regularly in ages — what if I can’t keep up?” And my favorite… “But if Michael and I both take evening classes, we’ll never get to see each other any more!”

Whine, whine, whine. All this was sitting at the forefront of my little pea-brain during the review Thursday night. Then the instructor called me out on the floor with a group of brown belts to do some kata. Except I didn’t get to line up with them. Instead, he told me, “Sensei Helen, you stand back there, a little separate from the group. You’re going to do something different.”

And that’s when it hit me. Yeah, I get to do something different. I was the only black belt there that night, the only one who knew the black belt katas, the only one who was going to look killer doing the higher level stuff. And man, did that turn me on.

And I did do well. Fortunately, I have managed to squeeze in some practice time, and I looked good, doing MY kata while everyone else did something else. And it was a long kata too, which meant long after everyone else had finished up, I was still going, with everyone watching me.

I’m such a frikkin’ show off.

But it worked. I suddenly found my motivation to go back to evening classes. I like doing karate. I like that I do something different from most of my friends, that I do something HARD. I worked to earn my black belt, and I remember how Michael and I just about tore each other up during our black belt test, and how people to this day still come up to us and say, “Man, I remember that test. I thought you two were going to kill each other. That was so cool!”

So next week, I start evening classes again. I already told my instructor, and he’s very happy about that. He wants me back on a regular schedule, and I want that to.
Speaking of which, my blogging time is up. Time to go wake up the rest of the family. See ya later.

So I Fell Off The Blogosphere…

I’m not even sure if I’ll get this entry written and posted, but I’ve been gone for more than two months, and I thought I should explain.
Hell with that. Explaining takes too long. Let me sum up.
My folks visited for the week of Halloween. Cassie refused to wear the Hermione Granger costume Grandma bought. Sam refused to wear anything.

I’ve been working like crazy on my podcast, Heat Flash. Several of the stories have shown up on the ERWA’s story galleries, so I know the writing is good. I wonder if the podcast is good too.
Sam, Cassie and I keep giving each other some sort of near-lethal upper-respiratory infection. I’m on antibiotics right now, and am so fed up with being sick I’m just blowing off the whole week. I’m doing the work I have to do, but have opted to skip going to karate and the gym and doing anything else. Did I mention that I have a pinched nerve in my neck as well?

I’ve decided getting up at 4AM in the morning is not feasible at this time. Yeah, I get a lot of work done, but it’s almost like being in an entirely different time zone from the rest of the family. Nobody else wakes up that early, and nobody else goes to bed as early as I need to in order to get up the next morning. So I haven’t been seeing Michael at all. Plus, with being sick so much, I’ve gotten out of the habit. I’m resetting my clock for a more reasonable time, still letting me get up early enough to work on the podcast before the kids wake up, but not so early that I might as well be in Englad, you know?

Michael cleaned the office over the garage, which means there’s now room enough for both of us in there. It looks very nice, and I am actually considering moving back in. The biggest problem I have with it though is that my computer in there runs on Windows 2000, and some of my software doesn’t work on an OS that old. So I need to update my OS. Plus, that computer doesn’t have a DVD drive, which means it can’t read any of the disks I’ve stored all my old files on. Michael is toying with the idea of building me a new computer. He bought a $100 case for $10 the other night. I only hope he doesn’t junk up the office again in the process. That would kind of defeat the purpose, you see.

Sam is running, playing, laughing, giggling, and dancing all the time. She climbs on everything, including the coffee table, and gets into everything, like Michael’s papers in the roll top desk. The roll top broke, with the top half disappearing into the back of the desk. We keep the bottom half down, but Sam has figured out how to pull out the chair, climb onto it, and reach over the remaining roll top to get Michael’s papers. Not good. Kid’s too damn clever for her own good.

Cassie is growing like a weed. In fact, I’d almost say she’s freakishly tall. She’s doing pretty good in preschool, and in karate class too. She keeps begging me to get her sparring gear so she can join the Power Kids class. So guess what she’s getting for Christmas? Don’t tell her though. I’m having a hard time imagining my freakishly tall four-year-old sparring with the older kids. My baby’s growing up so fast!

John turned 40 the other day. Ha ha! You’re older than dirt John! I just had to say that.

And I’ve got a ton of work to do. E-book covers, podcasting, stories to write, a book to outline, an image to finish up for a contest. Baby is screaming right now, so I’ll wrap this up.

Hope I don’t fall off the blogosphere again.

The Litany of Things Gone Wrong

It would not be life if things didn’t go wrong. Here’s the skinny on what’s up – or rather, down – at the Madden household.

Two weeks prior to Fantasci 6, the entire family came down with the creeping crud (actual scientific name for unknown upper respiratory infection we all had).

The day after Fantasci 6, the entire family came down with the cousin of the creeping crud, an all new yet strangely familiar upper respiratory disease with bonus symptoms (i.e. Cassie puked at school).

The sedan kept stalling on Michael, forcing him to take it in to be serviced. The diagnosis? A fried alternator that needed to be replaced to the tune of a couple hundred dollars.

Our oven died, and was replaced to the tune of $500.

A sensor in the front driver’s side wheel of our SUV went wonky (again, another actual scientific term) and had to be replaced. To the tune of $440. As an added bonus, Sam and I got to spend two whole hours in the Saturn dealership waiting for this to be fixed. Yea!

Yesterday, everyone but me came down sick with the mother of the cousin of the creeping crud (and yes, that really is its scientific disease name). Sam can barely breathe, which makes breastfeeding fun. She’s also been using my shirt as a hanky. Eeeew. Michael is so congested, he’s walking around in a daze. Cassie hasn’t succumbed to it yet, but she’s coughing and wheezing, so it’s only a matter of time. Me? I’m disinfecting the crap out of everything, including my nipples once Sam’s done breastfeeding. And I may just burn my shirt from today…

So how are things in your neck of the woods?

By The Way, I Survived Fantasci 6

Just thought I should mention that I survived Fantasci 6, the sci-fi convention I went to a couple weeks back. I was there to represent EPIC (Electronically Published Internet Connection), and spent all weekend talking to people about e-books. The convention wasn’t as nearly as large as the staff predicted it would be, but I thought it was worth attending. I got to run a fan table for the first time ever, talk to folks about e-books, and I spent most of the weekend with Kathryn Lively from Phaze Books, which is not a bad thing when you are a writer who would eventually like to publish with Phaze. Nope, not bad at all.

Recipe: Spaghetti Squash with Sauce

I am not normally the person you go to for a recipe. I can barely cook. So it surprised me that I came up with a recipe that’s easy and actually works. Blame my oven. It died on me last week when I went to make dinner.

Spaghetti Squash with Sauce

Ingredients:

1 spaghetti squash
1 jar marinara
1 package shredded parmesan cheese
1 really big Crock Pot (okay, not really an ingredient, but work with me here, all right?)

Directions:

Cut the spaghetti squash in half lengthwise and scoop out the yuck. Take a big fork and stab a bunch of holes in the outer shell.

Pour the jar of marina sauce into the Crock Pot. Lay the spaghetti squash, cut side down, on top of that. Cook on ‘low’ for 8 hours.

When cooking is done, carefully pull out the squash (use oven mitts, it’ll be hot) and scrap the insides into a bowl. Throw out the empty shells. Pour the marinara sauce over top of squash in bowl. Sprinkle with parmesan cheese and serve.

And that’s it. Three ingredients and almost no work on my part. Gotta love that.

How Not To Enjoy Blow-Off Day

Michael’s been away on a business trip all week, so you know what that means. After a week of struggling with two kids on my own, Friday arrives and with it comes Blow Off Day, the day where I do absolutely nothing but what I want to do, outside of taking care of the kids.

It should have been a breeze. My plan was to get up extra early and blow some fun time on computer graphics. Then I would wake up Cassie, get her dressed and fed and dropped off at preschool. Then Sam and I would head out for a nice lazy walk. Then we would head out for the morning. First stop, the hospital to pick up copies of my last mammogram (yep, coming up on time to get the boobs ironed out). Second stop, Barnes and Nobles because I have a coupon burning a hole in my pocket. I thought we might look through some manga and cook books and whatever else caught my eye. I’d have a frou-frou coffee with extra whipped cream (the baristas always give me extra whipped cream when they see Sam because they think she’s so cute). Then I’d hit the toy store and pick up a small gift for the party Cassie is going to tomorrow. All of that would be followed by a trip home, during which Sam would fall soundly asleep. I’d carry her to her crib, lay her down, and sneak off to do some more fun stuff on my computer. I’d pick Cassie up from preschool around 4 PM. At home, the kids could enjoy cartoons while I whipped together a quick dinner. We’d eat, pop in a movie (we only watch TV on Fridays and Saturdays around here, so yeah, Friday is a big day for the boob tube), and head up for bath and bed around 7 PM. After stories, both kids would be in bed by 8 PM, 8:30 PM tops, and I would have the rest of the evening to myself.

Yeah, that was how the plan was supposed to work. Here’s what really happened.

I got up early, just like I planned and spent some quality time with my graphics programs. I put together a really nice graphic for the podcast I’m starting up next month. I puttered away on my laptop happily until 6:25 AM, and then went to wake up Cassie to get her ready for school.

Only to discover that her right eye was glued shut by greenish-yellow goop. Twenty minutes later, when I had finally soaked away the last of the super-goop, I discovered my child had pink eye.

You know that put a kink in my plans.

I can’t take Cassie to preschool when she’s got pink eye, so I called the school to let them know she’d be staying home today. No biggie, I can still enjoy Blow Off Day with both kids. Of course, I’d have to take Cassie to the doctor, and to do that I’d have to make an appointment…

Since the doctor’s office doesn’t open until 9 AM, I had to delay my walk. I let Cassie watch some TV while she ate a waffle and I went back to work on my computer graphic. It was really turning out beautifully. I decided to let Sam sleep, since we weren’t going anywhere until after I called the doctor. When she finally woke up around 8 AM, I pried myself away from my graphics program and fed her breakfast. Then I let her wander around the living room, destroying everything she could get her hands on while I went back to my computer graphic. Cassie continued to nibble at her waffle and watch the Wiggles with one eye glued shut again.

At 9 AM, I made the call to the doctor’s office and spent fifteen minutes on hold. When I got through, I was told I could have an appointment that afternoon at 2:30 PM. Great. That would be right smack-dab in the middle of Sam’s nap. But Cassie has pink eye so I had to take it. I hung up the phone and started herding kids upstairs to get dressed. The afternoon was shot but I could still make it to Barnes and Nobles and enjoy browsing through books.

Unfortunately, we didn’t exactly hustle. For various reasons, we didn’t make it out of the house until 10:30 AM. No problem, though, I could still get in a short trip before lunch, and then put Sam down for a short nap so I could have some quiet time. Cassie could read in her room while I went back to work on my graphics. Right before we hit the parking lot of B&N, I remembered I was supposed to pick up my mammogram films, so I had to keep going and circle around to the hospital. Not a huge trip, but it did eat away that much more time from my book browsing.
At this point, Cassie started complaining of being hungry. “We’ll get something to eat at the book store,” I said, envisioning us all smiling as we shared a cheese-stuffed herb pretzel and I happily sipped my frou-frou coffee. “But I don’t want to eat at the book store, Mommy. I want to eat at Wendy’s.”

“Wendy’s?”

“It’s my favoritest place in the whole world!”

We debated the advantages of the B&N café versus Wendy’s all the way through the hospital and back out again. We were still debating it as we headed into the bookstore. Sam started to fuss. I gamely tried to pick out a cook book while Cassie went on and on about Wendy’s and Sam’s complaints about being stuck in the stroller grew louder. Then Cassie said she really needed to go to the children’s section of the bookstore, so we went. I thought maybe the kids would get engrossed with the train table and I’d get to look at the cookbooks I’d picked out at random. Instead, I spent most of my time chasing after Sam as she ran amok in the kid’s section, yanking books and toys off the shelves. We didn’t stay very long (although somehow I did manage to pick out one cookbook and use my coupon; I hope I bought a good book…).

Upon leaving the bookstore, Cassie immediately announced that it was now time to go to Wendy’s. Since I obviously wasn’t getting any frou-frou coffee now anyway, I relented. It was close to home, so why not. We headed back across town, found the Wendy’s and I enjoyed what had to be the absolute cheapest meal of my life. I can’t really eat the food at Wendy’s – the burgers give me heartburn – so all I ever get is the baked potato and chili from the value menu. Cassie and Sam seemed to enjoy their meals though, so at least someone was happy with the cuisine.

After lunch, we went home and played outside for a while. Sam was thrilled with this. She’d had enough of the car for the day and was anxious to stretch her fat little legs. Too bad we only had 30 minutes before we had to head out for Cassie’s doctor’s appointment. Oh, the screaming we had when I put Sam back into her car seat. And the thrashing too. Kid nearly knocked me on my butt in the driveway. Somehow, I managed to get her strapped in and we all took off again. Sam’s screaming sounds a lot like a police siren, so we made good time as other cars pulled off the road ahead of us.

We spent an hour and a half at the doctor’s office, most of that in the waiting room. I had expected to spend much longer there, but I guess they were having a quiet day. My diagnosis of pink eye was confirmed and the physician’s assistant prescribed an antibiotic. It was at this point I remembered that I still had to get a toy for the party Cassie is going to tomorrow. Naturally, the toy store is on the exact opposite end of town from our pharmacy. Could the doctor’s office call in the prescription for me, so I could pick it up on my way home? Of course they could! Thinking I had just made life easier on myself, I took the kids back out to the car and headed for the toy store.

By now, Sam was getting seriously pissed. She’d missed her nap and had been stuck in the car seat most of the day. When she wasn’t in the car seat, she was in my arms to prevent her from trashing whatever location we happened to be visiting at the time. She screamed all the way over to the toy store and…

Fell asleep. I had to carry that little lump all through the toy store, and man was she heavy. I also had to argue with Cassie over what to get her little friend for the birthday party. Personally, I can only afford to spend so much on birthday gifts, especially since all of Cassie’s classmates seem intent on inviting everyone in the class whenever a birthday rolls around. The present buying thing gets expensive, you know?

Cassie eventually found a toy horse set that fell within my price range. After paying for it, we headed off to the pharmacy. I had this plan (again with the plans; you think I’d learn by now) to pick up Cassie’s prescription, rush home, turn on the cartoons, and whip together a quick dinner just like I’d planned. We’d all relax after running around all day and maybe even have time to play.

That plan went to hell in a hand basket when I got to the pharmacy and was told I’d have to wait another 30 minutes to get my prescription. It had been called in, but they were busy, so that was that. It turned out to be an hour long wait in the end, during which time I once again chased both kids around the store, trying to prevent them from breaking anything. Cassie started to complain about being hungry again, so I bought a ginger ale and a granola bar and the three of us split that while we waited. When we finally got the prescription, we headed home. By now Sam was furious about being stuffed in the car seat again, and not only did regular cars pull over as we drove, but so did a police car as well. At least we made good time on the drive.

Well, I did manage to get dinner out quickly. I had cooked chicken stew the day before, so all I had to do was heat it up again and serve it. Neither Sam nor Cassie wanted the stew though, and that started the nightly food wars up again. I did cave to Sam and let her have some baby raviolis, but only because they’re so easy to fix. With Cassie, I finally had to turn off the TV and tell her no more cartoons until she’d eaten her dinner.

“How many bites?” she asked me.

“All of it,” I said.

“But how many bites is that?”

“All of it means you eat every bit of food on that plate, young lady.”

“But I can’t do that! I don’t want stew!”

“Well too bad, because I’m not cooking you anything else. You either eat the stew or you go to bed. TV is not coming on until you’ve cleared your plate.”

And so on and so on… That particular argument lasted for over half an hour. I let Cassie sit at the table and whine over her stew while I finished eating and then went on to do my evening chores. I told her once I was done with the chores, her plate was going away and she was going to bed. Did she listen? Did she even attempt to finish her stew? Nooooooooooo. She sat and whined and cried and pouted and then threw a screaming fit when I finally came for her plate. Oh well.

Cassie did calm down in time to get a bedtime story. Sam sat through one board book and then tried to mug me for breast milk. I made her wait while I read to Cassie. Then we did our usual bedtime routine of rounding up monsters (we give them to Cassie to eat before she goes to sleep) and saying good night. Well, I said good night. Cassie said, “Mommy, I need someone to stay with me tonight!” This is her latest delaying technique. I always answer with, “I’ll be right down the hallway if you need me. Good night sweetie.” Then I walk out of the room. We’ve done this often enough lately that Cassie no longer cries when I leave.

After getting Cassie down, I tried to nurse Sam. She was more interested in chewing on my nipple than in nursing, so she went to bed early too. She screamed all the while as I worked on this blog entry, but now she’s quiet. It’s 8:30 PM. I finally have the house to myself. I’m dead tired and the only thing I got done that I had planned to do was my graphic for my podcast. Everything else just got derailed. I’m so pissed. I hate it when Blow Off Day gets screwed like that. Maybe I should try again next Friday. We’ll see.

Anyway, Michael will be home later tonight. Once he’s home, he gets the girls all weekend. I’m going to be busy working at Fantasci 6 this weekend, handing out brochures and promotional materials for EPIC. Should be fun.