and THAT my man, is why I'm having a beer right now.

I'm having writers block again.

But here are a few tidbits for you.

Our dog, Ares, is annoying the f**k out of me.  If we leave the house for longer than 5 freaking minutes, he gets in the trash.  It's so awesome cleaning THAT mess up numerous times a week.  We have since started putting our trash can on the cellar steps if we leave the house for longer than 5 freaking minutes. 

What exactly did that result in today? 

While I was out with the kiddos doing some grocery shopping, Ares decided to get into the BATHROOM trash and eat the cat poop that I had scooped out and put into a smaller trashbag, and then into the bathroom trash can yesteday.  Unfortunantely, I didnt realize this until I had already put him outside when we got home so it was too late to discipline him.  SO FREAKING Annoying!

This morning as I was vacuuming, I realized that our vacuum is in desperate need of replacement.  It wasn't doing any sucking. Duh. So I pulled apart some hoses, while strategically placing myself between the vacuum and Princess (because you know, she gets into everything)....and ended up dumping A LOT of dirt and cat litter and random crap out on the carpet that had been vacuumed up in the process of moving out of our old place.  This is even more awesome because our home-headstart visitor was due to arrive in approximately 10 minutes, and this was including the time counted in that she's always late by.  In the process of dumping all of this random dirt stuff on the rug, I found one lone piece of sad, extremely small, and extremely DRIED up piece of cat poop (amazingly Ares didn't get to it before I did) and since Princess was all up in my space, I tucked that piece of (dried up) cat poop (that didn't smell!) into my pocket. 

And forgot about it. 

I swept the rug vigorously and our home headstart visitor showed up.  Late.  Then 5 hours later, after making lunch for the family, and taking the kiddos out grocery shopping, and taking care of the groceries, and cleaning up the cat poop mess in the bathroom, I found that f**king piece of cat poop....in my pocket.  Awesome.

The Dude was a typical almost 3 year old at the grocery store.  No, he didn't knock a container of blueberries onto the ground (which he did in front of my grandmother a few months ago in the middle of the produce section) and no he didn't throw a carton of eggs onto the ground so that I had to hover over it until someone came to clean it (which he did a few months ago in Walmart).  But he DID manage to touch everysinglething in the grocery store.  I'm known for exaggerating, but I swear I am NOT exaggerating right now (well, maybe I am. A little.  Whatever.) Annnnnd knock over a glass container of applesauce that THANKfully didn't break.  I wiped the sweat off my brow that had appeared in the .2 seconds that it had taken for the applesauce to fall and then I leaned in real close to Dude and started talking about "time outs in the middle of the grocery store"  He stopped his unruliness for about 5 seconds. 

I'm pretty sure that everyone in the store was in THAT aisle at THAT time and they were all judging me.  Sometimes you just have to ignore it and say (to yourself) "F--- it."  and move quicky and efficiently to the NEXT aisle while making it look like you were actually DONE shopping in THAT aisle.  Then avoid eye contact with the people that were IN that aisle at the time for the next 45 mintues you're in the store, because you KNOW you'll run into them again.  In my case, I ran into some of those same people while Dude was pulling Golden Books off the rack, while leaning almost all the way out of the cart during the half second I had my back turned to  grab the coffee.  Awesome.

I think this may be good for now.  I feel I have sufficiently vented.

To end this, when S. came home from work, he said..."How was your day?" as Dude was crying hysterically because he had just woken up from the nap that I had enforced on him when we got home.  I looked at him, and told him, everything that I just wrote.  More than that actually, I'm sure.  And then I said, "And that my man, is why I'm having a beer right now instead of wearing my running clothes."

Sometimes you have to say "Fuggar!!."  (that's kind of a private joke, sorry, but I'm sure you'll probably get what I'm trying to say).

And skip the run since you worked out that morning ;)

In case you were wondering, I'm also ignoring the dishes.

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