Well, kinda. Sorta.

Dooooods and doooooodettes, I’ve missed you. Not enough to, well, you know, like, pay attention to any of you or anything, but enough to wish that I had something new and exciting to say.

Which I don’t.

At all.

Really.

Well, except for the fact that Little Man is doing mostly well at school except, except, for not eating, like, anything, and for erasing his written work over and over and over again (totally NOT prepared for that one, by the fecking way – thankyouverylittle) and he’s an absolute ((bi)-polar) bear when I pick him up at 3:30 on M,W and F’s.

Fun fecking wow, chicks and chicklets.

Oh, and I have been coughing up brain matter for going on a month now and the only response I get from the doc is an ever-so-mind-numbing – settling “It’s a virus. Get lots of rest and take cough syrup.”

Really? Really? Why didn’t I think of that. Oh, right. I did. Feckers. Just give me the gee dee antibiotics and wash your bloody hands of me for feck’s sake. Zeus.

Sidebar anyone? Taking a dose and a half of Nyquil after consuming copious amounts of red wine will knock one out sufficiently to secure almost an entire night’s sleep. Or so I’ve heard.

Little Man is ok. He’s ok. He’s going to be just fine. He’s good. He’s ok. I’m not. He’s ok. (Picture Kia rocking back and forth slowly, eyes almost closed, legs crossed Koom-bye-fecking-yah style while she repeats this mantra.) (Laugh.)

I’m loving the fact that LM’s teacher is so openly communicative with me. LOVING. IT.  As I said, he’s apparently used up the entire class’ supply of rubber erasers for the whole school year (that bill shall be lovely, no doubt – I kid) already and it’s only the middle of October. I find this fact somewhat amusing because why the FECK can’t he be that way about his room?! Whatev’s, it means he’s spending way longer than he needs to on his worksheets and the teach wants to know what to do about it.

Cue Dr.Psych.

Incoming!

See? I told you she’s wonderful. Dr.Psych, that is. She is. Wonderful.

She is also coming to visit Little Man at school on Friday of this week to observe and hopefully offer some suggestions to help him get through his days with less perfectionism and more lunch. We shall see. I’m actually doing surprisingly well with NOT stressing to the max about Little Man’s school happenings. (Pssst! Lean in close. Closer. Ok. Shhhhh….The reason I’m not stressing to the max about his school day? It’s because I’m enjoying the HELL out of my time to myself. Ahem. Or something like that.)

So there we be. We’re ok. He’s ok. We’re going to be fine.

Doooood lost another tooth on the weekend. Wah. My baby doth grow up too much. Oh, he protests quite a bit too (much).

I’ve missed you, my loverlings. Truly. I’ll try to drop by and visit this week. Pinky swear (with my toes crossed behind my back). (Quite the visual, non?)

Out!

Kia