I was about to preface this post with the comment 'I don't complain all that often.'.
But now that I'm thinking about it, I've recently complained about pregnant smokers (if you are one of these people, take heed, I cursed this blog with my mojo and you'll have horrendous heartburn for the rest of your life if you do not stop poisoning your unborn child), the weather...well, I guess that's it.
So today I'm going to complain about myself. I have this problem lately where I can just not relax. You know, chill, take it easy, enjoy life...bla bla bla. It's really starting to take a toll on me. I'm not reading as much, I'm worrying more about cleaning than playing with the kids, I'm fretting about what to make for dinner instead of plotting and carrying out the American Forces take over of North Korea and how many different ways I could humiliate KimIllJongFatHead.
Right now the baby is napping and the girls are with their dad and I'm worrying about whether or not I cut up and refridgerated enough cantaloupe to last till tomorrow. Who cares? Can't I just cut up the other cantoloupe when the first one runs out? Maybe I should just go cut it up and refridgerate it right now?! WHAT!? Like that's of any import whatsoever.
I have three books sitting here, staring at me, calling out to me. I have a billion blogs that I usually love to read yelling my name at the top of their lungs, "Erin, we're hilarious and yes even sometimes informative!".
Now I've noticed that the mailman still has not taken our Netflix movies...does that mean that we won't get movies when I thought we were going to? I had this weeks evening activities planned out and the god damned Mail Man is ruining everything!
The house is going to get messy, the laundry will always have to be done, dinner will always have to be prepared....but do I have to sit and think about these things ad nauseam? And why in God's name is the spell checker telling me I spelled that wrong? IT'S CALLED LATIN YOU FREAKING IDIOT.
Am I drinking too much coffee? Where does the clean and tidy disease come from? Why do I feel the need to be on top of things all the time?
I remember when Rosey was a baby we would play all day long. The house was always a complete and total mess, I never cooked or did laundry unless it was completely necessary. We watched movies, read books, played with PlayDoh, talked, went on walks, danced around. I was so relaxed and totally awesome. Somewhere between the stress and mental breakdown of Maxine (child number three) and the calm after the storm, Elijah (child number four) I became a normal uptight bitch-mom. Was my mom totally cool and laid back at one time??? Oh my God, I think she was.
I'm going to turn into my momma.
Soo...any tips, advice? Tell me something other than 'Chill The Frick Out!'.