Too Late Now

Anytime I think about it I get a nervous butterfly feeling in my stomach.

If I look out and up from my office window I start to feel very little.

What the hell did I sign myself up for?



1,250 people, 40 floors, 870 steps, and 633 feet into the sky.

It sounded like a good idea at the time...

34 going on 13

I find I do my best Googling while I'm sitting in the office with no one around and not much to do.

I keep a running list of things to look up, questions the kids have that I can't answer like what's the difference between an asteroid and a meteor? or random thoughts I have. The random thoughts have to be carefully worded while searching at work otherwise those stupid filters kill all of my fun.

While facebooking at work (yes I'm an asshole that does it) I read something wrong and thought it said MASH and I died laughing. I didn't think of M*A*S*H the TV show but the fortune telling game that my sisters and I spent hours and hours doing and re-doing trying to get the exact fortune we wanted to hear.

So I googled M.A.S.H. Most results came back with the TV show, except one. That one result provided me a full afternoon's worth of entertainment.

Middle School Survival (your guide to surviving Middle School)

Holy Hannah. They have quizzes like Are you are cool and confident or shy and unsure? Are you spoiled rotten? and What's your crush style?

I couldn't stop myself. I took most of the quizzes.

I spent some time with the ultimate M.A.S.H. game



and built my ideal crush.



I read through every single entry in the Hall Of Shame and was disappointed to see the OMG Message Board is not working yet.

Is it weird that I'm browsing this tween site and finding all sorts of entertainment? Meh, maybe a little, but then again I woke up this morning with two huge zits and the latest blog entry is asking for help on how to get rid of a zit or at least cover it up. Apparently I haven't left puberty after all...

Childish

I should have known I was screwed the first time Alex asked for a dog. Once the first request was made they became very frequent. Even Olivia started asking for a dog. (except in her head it was going to be pink and green and a girl) The more Alex asked the more guilty I felt for saying "hell no".

I was perfectly content to be pet free. No dog shit to clean up, no dog hair to vacuum up every day, no dog food or vet bills and best of all, no dog to yank me around on a leash or try to steal food off the table.

Almost 6 months pass with frequent requests. Dave and I held firm, we like being pet free.

Then Dave starts to say "Ya know, I always liked having a dog growing up."

Fuck.

So we start looking for a dog but I had a few rules. I had to be able to control the dog on a leash and it WILL NOT EVER AND I MEAN EVER crap on the floor. No puppies and no small jumpy yappy little thing. Oh, and Olivia had to be OK with being around a dog.

Until this point she acted like the hand of Satan was reaching for her whenever there was anything little and furry near her. It didn't matter what it was, dogs, cats, rabbits, squirrels... and babies that crawl, and puppets, and her grandpa.

It didn't take much looking and we found Charlie.

After a day with Charlie in the house I was really warming up to him. He was exactly what I wanted. Very quiet and chill in the house, he already knew many commands and liked his kennel. Dave liked that he wanted to play outside.

Last night I'm sitting in the bathroom giving the kids a bath and I hear Dave say "Charlie, wanna go down to the shop with me?" I hear his toenails clacking on the floor as he follows Dave downstairs.

The kids start to get a little louder and an absurd storyline starts building in my mind.

Oh I see... Dave wanted a dog not a family dog and I get to sit here in the bathroom giving baths to two screechy kids while Dave gets go downstairs to the quiet basement and why wouldn't the dog want to go downstairs when its quiet down there and I'm never going to bond with the dog and the dog wont like me and pretty soon he will start letting the dog in our bed and my pillow is going to get all funky and he'll have a companion and I'll have nothing but a stinky funky pillow.

Just then I feel a little nudge on my back. Charlie is standing behind me and looks me square in the face then licks my nose. I'm sure a normal person would end their illogical internal rant at that one show of affection and I did start to melt.

Then Dave walked in the bathroom to show me something he had just done in the shop.

RRRAAAWWWRRRRRR!

"Cant you see I'm busy taking care of our kids while you're taking it easy hanging with the dog in the basement and I don't ever get to take a break?"

The poor guy walked into my little hornet's nest and didn't even see it coming.

I hate when I have to admit that I'm being unreasonably childish.

Garanimals

I am OCD about a lot of things: how towels are stacked in the closet, sorting mail by size before opening, all silverware MUST be handle side down in the dishwasher and don't bother putting dishes in the dishwasher because I'll reorganize it as soon as you walk away.

Another hangup I have is my clothes. My pants must be folded a certain way and my closet is bizarre. My shirts are hung facing the same direction and they are organized by color. When Dave does laundry, I can tell within seconds if he hung a shirt of mine or put pants away. It took a few times before he has figured out its easier on all of us if he just stacks my laundry on our bed and I put it away.

You would think with as organized as my clothes are I could get dressed quickly and generally look put together. Sadly, I have just enough fashion sense to not stand out. I quit wearing shoulder pads, I don't roll up my pant legs, safety pins are functional instead of decorative, and I've never worn a Tweety t-shirt.

Every top in my closet is a solid color and I rarely venture out shopping on my own. I stand in front of my closet for a long time trying to come up with some new way to mix it up and still end up pairing the same things together. I was proud of myself when pushed myself out of my comfort zone and bought red and pink. I am incapable of looking at a pattern and deciding if its good or not. Patterns always look fantastic when other people wear them, on me it looks as wrong as a sweater on a cat.

Yesterday was yet another example. I used Google to figure out if it was OK to wear grey and blue together or if I would look like a huge bruise.

Since I will never be wealthy enough for my very own personal stylist, I think someone needs to make Garanimals for adults.