I’ll save you the boring shit that has been my life for the past several weeks. After Jenn emailed me a few days (ok, if we’re going to be truthful and shit, it was more like a week) ago asking if I was alive or dead, I realized that it’s been a shitload of time (again) since I bloooooogged.

Honestly? I’m feeling shit-ish and depressed and bitchier-than-thou lately. I’m healthy now, but my house looks like fecking animals took over and my Hubs looks at me like I’ve grown a pair of antennae from my nostrils when I ask him to lift a fecking finger and help out. Gads. I’m seriously considering getting a job just for the purpose of paying someone else to clean this shit hole.

Case in point? There are wrappers from Halloween chocolates under a table in my family room. Little Man doesn’t eat Halloween chocolate (it may have been contaminated, you see) and I am more than capable of putting my wrappers in the gar-baw-ge.

This leaves but one culprit. The Hubs. Fecker.

I mean, gaw-wed. The guy is a gem in so many ways, but he’s a pig’s arse when it comes to cleaning up after himself. I almost went postal on him yesterday. He looked at me with the “Are you pms’ing again?”  question in his eyes. KILL. KILL. KILL. Oh, and yes. I am. Whose business is that exactly, anyway? Postal. Epic-ly postal.

Fecker.

Anyway, I’m buying a new dishwasher as a result of my rants yesterday. So see? It does  pay to whine and bitch and throw shit around complain.

Or something.

Tae Kwon Do. We read in several places over the past couple of years that martial arts are very good for kids like Little Man (i.e. with Sensory Processing Disorder and/or OCD). Who knew? Sometimes “they” are right. We had Little Man try out a couple of classes at a local club in July and he’s loved it (Perhaps obsessively, but who’s counting? Or checking? Get it? Counting? Checking? OCD? Oh, never mind.) ever since! In fact, we’re at the club 4-5 days every week. He loves it that  much.

Seriassly, doooooods. If you’ve read that it might be good for your kid, it probably would be good. We can’t get over the change in LM’s confidence and physically fitness and coordination since he started. He’s already advanced in rank and just today his instructor told us he would like LM to try the class with slightly older kids in it. It’s that  good for him.

Anyhoo, I’m off to bitch at Hubs some more. I’m on a bit of a roll here. Does anyone know how many calories I can burn if I throw approximately 3 dinner plates, 2 water glasses and a pair of mislaid sunglasses, all at the speed of light and one right after the other? You know, just for the sake of conversation???

Kia

P.S. Remind me to call my doc. I think I need my meds adjusted. Just a thought.

P.P.S. Here’s a Little Man-ism for you. In the car, driving home from school one day last week, LM made a suggestion: “Mommy, I think we should put a big sign up on the outside of our house that says, “(Insert LM’s real name) lives here.”" I asked why. Duh. He replied, “so that when I’m rich and famous people will know where to come when they want my autograph.” Bah. Dum. Dum.