Tuesday, July 03, 2007

"So tired, so tired, so tired, so tired, so tired." - Ozzy Osborne, "So Tired"

I am so tired.

I could write a post about people who plan adult birthday parties for weeknights when they are on vacation and others are NOT, and yet others are obliged to attend. But I am too tired to be bothered.

I could write a post about how much my mother-in-law annoys me, with her constant need for validation for every little thing she does and says. I’m sorry, the pasta was inedible and I am too tired to lie about it. And if you sprinkle crushed Ritz crackers and shredded Velveeta on top of broccoli, you have rendered unpalatable a perfectly fine vegetable.

I could write a post about patrons who incorrectly impugn my considerable abilities as a research librarian. But frankly, I am too tired to politely point out the error of their ways and content myself with snarking to you about it.

I could write a post about the squickiness level of the research I am doing for a freelance assignment. But I am too tired to figure out what my non-disclosure agreement covers, and what it doesn’t.

I could write a post about how if *I* had spent thousands of dollars on a boob job and tummy tuck, I would eschew Peter-Pan-collared gingham shirts with Winnie-the-Pooh appliqué, and high-waisted, pleated shorts (let’s face it, I eschew all these things anyway). I think I am too tired to consider what I would wear, other than Old Navy’s low-waisted cargoes.

I could write a post about how my six-year-old is driving me absolutely batshit with his mouthiness and whining and neediness, and how my four-year-old needs a volume control, and how I think The Baby may have roseola. But I am too tired to do much other than throw waffles at them for breakfast and push them outside to play.

I could write a post about how happy I am that my big brother is coming to visit over the holiday. I am really too tired to cook for him, but fortunately he really won’t care.

I could write a post about the war of words waged on the neighborhood email list, regarding whether or not children and dogs should be permitted to splash in the park fountain. I am NOT too tired to point out that we all survived fountain- and pond-splashing, tree-climbing, bike-riding without helmets, and playing Jailbreak in the street till after dark.

At least I appear to be too tired to bother being nauseated, so that’s something.


Paula said...

The bad news about six-year-olds is; they deserve love the least and need it the most.

The good news is; it's over pretty quickly and then you're good to go until they turn twelve. Then it's double the six-year-old thing...

Kathy said...

I never got the loudness of kids either. It practically drove me insane.

Gina said...

I bet MIL *loved* SIL's outfit!! :-P

Peg said...

BB -- thinking of you -- that's about all I got. I'm exhausted just reading along. Hang in there.

MsCellania said...

Could be worse.
You could have a mother like your mil.
I do.
Does your fil give the mil no praise? I think that's the trouble with my mother.
But, It Really Gets Old.

I almost hesitate to tell you this, since you've got 3 1/2 children, but around 5 and 6 is the first onslaught of sex hormones. Yes! Just like a 12 or so! It does go away, but it is Pain Full while it's happening. Primo will start crying easily, too, and will get ultra sensitive about friends, etc.

Well, aren't a just a cheerful sod tonight? I'll stop tonight.

HA HA! Just read Gina's comment! I can't believe an adult would wear something with WTPooh on it - what's next - adult rompers?! OH! There's a Christmas Idea for her! I think Threadbared might have some patterns from the 1970's featuring such atrocities.

Does Terzo have bright red cheeks? Could be teething. Or Fifth's - Oh wait - I was gonna quit with the dreadful already...

nutmeg said...

I'm with Miscellania - my mother is also like your MIL. Small doses I say.

And my husband just commented that only rappers (or the modern day equivalent hip hoppers - or am I just too out of it?) could get away with wearing kids gear as an adult (I thought this very good!) I now can't get out of my head the picture of an adult in a romper - I am SURE you could buy one.

And yes - I am sending some "hang in there" vibes your way. My daughters is nearly six. Do they have a sex hormone burst too?

BabelBabe said...

Adult Rompers.Bwahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!

Also, apparently, in case you didn't know, there's a huge market for baby cloths for adults who like to pretend to be babies. EWWW. If you Google adult rompers, you shall see. Again, EWWWWWW.

BabelBabe said...

Footy Pajamas!

even funnier! I HATED these as a kid, they made my feet sweat...

Sarah Louise said...

Six year olds also want you to play "Sorry" with you so that they can move your pieces and trounce you (I base this on TWO separate six year olds, neither of which is Primo)

Misery loves company...I needed to read this post. Family, the good kind, on the Fourth, is a total God-send, I agree. Have fun with your bro.

Sarah Louise said...

I could write a lot of posts too. But instead I'll get ready to pick up my parents on the Moon...I mean Moon Twp.

Anonymous said...

I've got a 13-year-old daughter. What Paula said about 6-year-olds is even more true for 13-year-olds.

When I was pregnant (many years ago), I was so tired, I dropped off the toddler at the sitter's house and then took a nap in my car in the sitter's driveway.

Anonymous said...

Here, take my chocolate-covered coffe beans. You need them more than I do.

Paula said...

BB, Bec tagged me so I tag you!