Every morning, The Oracle is the first to rise. He has his breakfast and nudges me awake just before he gets into the shower. On a good day, I stumble out to the kitchen and prepare lunches, periodically wearing a path from the kitchen to the kids' rooms to rouse them for school and check on their progress. It's a frustrating thing to spend ten minutes in the kitchen only to find them in exactly the same position ten minutes later. Once The Oracle finishes showering, he enters the nag fest. Every morning he winds up taking a train later than the one he's supposed to catch at 7:20.
On a not-so-good day, I fall back to sleep and end up with a justifiably-snappish Oracle when he gets out of the shower, because everybody's going to be late, not just him.
I gleefully stuff the kids onto the bus at 7:45 and thank Heaven all that nonsense is over; by 1:30 I miss them and want them to come home, and I spend the next ninety minutes watch the clock and listening for the bus. I fight the temptation to sign them out early.
I'm turning into my mother. We all knew that would happen, right? Last night was just another symptom in a long string of habits I've developed. I got the notion to bake a loaf of bread. I tried it the other day and it didn't rise (The yeast might've been too old despite the expiration date) and I was annoyed about that, so I had to try again. I took it out of the oven at 1:00 this morning. The house smelled wonderful.
Anyway, my mother used to do this stuff all the time. She was a chronic insomniac; she also smoked. (And a long string of stuff leads me to believe she probably had Fibromyalgia, but that'll take too long here.) When she couldn't sleep, she'd sit at her countertop "throne" and watch a late-late-late movie. If she woke up for a cigarette, she never gave in to the temptation to have a smoke in bed and wandered out to the kitchen for her dose of nicotine. Either way, when she found herself in the kitchen, her fingers itched for something to do, and that something logically surrounded cooking. She loved to cook, and I often woke to wonderful smells in the house. Once she woke me up with a plate of warm cookies under my nose.
Her Nibs was up rather late last night. She didn't go to bed until 11:00, and she only went because I put her in her crib and shut the door. Even she knew she was pooped, I think, because she only chatted with her stuffed monkey for a minute before collapsing in exhaustion. She barely moved from where I found when I went to bed last night. She hadn't even kicked the covers off her legs. She's all peaceful and mushy-looking, and I want to hug her, but I don't want to disturb her, either.
Last week, I started taking daily morning walks with two other mommies in my neighborhood. One does most of the talking and I really don't mind since I don't know her that well. She b---hes about her husband sometimes and that makes me appreciate mine. Today, however, I'm missing my morning walk because her Nibs is still asleep. The mommies take four laps by my house, so I'm hoping she'll wake up and I can jump in for at least a partial walk. Is that selfish?
Really, mornings like this are rare. It's just me and the Knucklehead (who is very wet from rolling in God knows what - ick) and my coffee. I actually get to enjoy my coffee semi hot for once.
A friend of mine is having some tests done over the next couple weeks; please please please say a few prayers or send some good karma or positive thoughts for clean, benign results. Thank you.
I miss my friends. I haven't seen E in ages. It's been even longer since I've seen M or S, and I'm starting to feel a little stir crazy. I think this is one reason why I spend so much time on CrackBook. It gives me a sense of connection with my friends when I don't have a physical one. Still, nothing beats face-to-face conversation, and for that I'm downright starved. If it weren't for The Oracle and my morning walks with my neighbors, I'd be locked up somewhere for talking to myself too much.
I haven't had a deposition in nearly three weeks. The last deposition prior to that was in February. This ain't no way to supplement the household income. As a result, I've been looking for some third-shift work close to home. It's surprising to see how little of that there is.
Why third shift? Because I won't need baby-sitters, and if I actually DO have a deposition I can still take the work. Court reporting is where I want to be, and my family has sacrificed a lot for me to have it.
I have my eye on a prolific convenience-store chain (way to aim high!), and I'm hoping they come through. I've applied for some other stuff, too. Wish me luck.
Oooooh! Her Nibs is awake!! I love it best when my kids are fresh out of bed.
Twelve Days of Boots: Day 9 by The Pioneer Woman
18 hours ago