PHEW! Boys are finally back to school (sooooo sorry to those of you still on winter break.) and I feel like I can breathe again. As far as breaks go, this one was a good one. Bugaboo wasn’t totally crawling out of his skin, he slept a little, ate a little and we kept him as busy as possible. WINNING!
It was a tough break, though, for a variety of reasons. Firstly, because my father wasn’t with us. This whole dead-at-holidays shiz is The Suckiest That Ever Sucked. I get it, people die, life goes on,yadda, yadda. But my Dad was one vibrant soul and his death was so unexpected and happened so fast that we’re still reeling from it, see.
Add to that fact my mother. She hasn’t been feeling well, has fallen a few times and has ended up with some yucky injuries. BOO, INJURIES! BOO! YOU GO NOW! I have real concerns for her safety. Luckily for us, my very brave and crazy (read: STOOOOPID) sister is taking her on for a month or something at her house in Virginney. That should give those of us above the Mason Dixon Line a break from stuffs.
The worst part about all of this is their dog. You remember the killer-attack-dog, Cujo? The little, destructive scamp of a dog? Yes. Well, he belonged to my Dad. Mom isn’t in the physical condition to take care of a dog, see. I know for a fact my Dad would have loved it if I took Cujo on when he passed but the truth is, Cujo (all eight pounds of him) is more dog than I can handle. He has major dominance issues, doesn’t get along with Daisy the Three-Footed Wonder Dog and needs some retraining. Plus, The Guy I Live With would no doubt divorce me if I even thought of taking on another hard luck case dog right now.
So. There’s that. And the fact that I’m already totally overwhelmed with my life. Cujo went to a rescue yesterday. The people there couldn’t have been more lovely and I’m super glad they were willing to take him on and love him and take care of him. He’s a nice dog, easy to take care of and honestly well-behaved. But the dominance and marking? Well, it’s kinda bad. And I’m not the person to take it on, no matter how guilty I feel about the whole thing. My Dad loved that dog. It was part of him. And seeing Cujo move on, well, made me emotional yesterday. Especially since it was a month yesterday that he was gone. Sigh. It does get a little easier, right?
True to form, Bugaboo went back to school yesterday and then was up ALL. NIGHT. LONG last night. And when I say all night I mean, woke up about an hour after I finally got to sleep and every time I put him back to bed and began to doze off, he was opening his door and pitter patter pitter patter downstairs again. Which means I am extremely sleep deprived, since he didn’t sleep that well over break and I don’t get naps over break. Which means in terms of sleep bank accounts I’m overdrawn for insufficient funds and stuff. And they’ve closed down my account for review and I have no access to it.
For those of you not good at math, it means that I’m hoping to sneak in a nap somewhere today in between babysitting the nephew and taking my mom home from the doctor. Either that or I’m going to bed WAY EARLY. If not, by tomorrow I’ll be back into manic-sleep-deprived mode, I’ll be frantically throwing things away, rearranging furniture, painting walls and accusing poor The Guy I Live With of all sorts of atrocities he isn’t remotely guilty of because I can’t think straight or rub two brain cells together.
Things I’m glad about this week? Friday we had the opportunity to go out with some friends to see a band at a place and we stayed up way to late and ended up at a diner at 2am for breakfast (where I got potato skins. All I can say is DROOOOOL.) and crashed just in time for Bugaboo to wake up at that precise moment but all is well because then he slept until 10am. And it was totally worth it going out, having fun, dancing until my feet hurt and eating diner food at 2am because I haven’t done that in about fifteen years. And I’m not likely to do it again for another fifteen. Or so. Or never again. Yep. No regrets there. Also? I owe my brother big time for dealing with the Bugaboo and staying up until 2am so his lame sister could get her dance on.
Then we went to bed at 10pm on New Year’s Eve because we’re exciting people and live a life of danger.
Happy New Year, y’all. Hope 2012 is a year full of win. You know, if the predictions are wrong and we make it to 2013 and stuffs.