My 11 year old, Paulina, has been extremely sad this week.  A family that we got very close to over the summer moved to England last Tuesday. All of us girls cried.  Paulina could not stop crying and in fact was worrying me because she seemed to have fallen into a depression over their departure.  Luckily, these last couple of days she has had some distractions in the way of friends taking her places for a few days,  and her auntie Maria also took her out one night to get her mind off of her overwhelming emotions.

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Tonight as Paulina was getting into bed, and we were having our usual bedtime convo, she got all teary again.  She said:

“Elaine (the mom) gave me a box of ‘After Eights’ and told me that if I nibble a piece of one every day, she will come visit me before they are all gone.”

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It’s been almost a week and she is still on her first one.  As you know, she obviously doesn’t get her will power from her mother. 

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And God help us if one of her siblings sneaks into her room and eats those sacred ‘After Eights’.  It would get very ugly over here if that were to happen..very, very ugly.

On Sunday afternoon, after hours of working on my courses, I straggled downstairs in my jammies.  Hubby gave me a kiss in the kitchen and said “You are the hottest student I have ever seen”.  He meant it too, he wasn’t even being sarcastic. (I paused for a moment wondering if I had even brushed my teeth that morning.)

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“Really?”  I asked.  “If I’m the hottest student that you have ever seen, then I feel sorry for you.  What kind of university experience did you have exactly?”

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And do you know what he said?  DO YOU KNOW WHAT HE SAID?

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He said “One where I don’t need to go back to school at age 40.”

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Ouch. That hurt…When the hell will I ever learn to take a damn compliment politely and shut my big mouth?

Nobody said that going back to university would be easy. I knew it wouldn’t be.

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So I shouldn’t be surprised by the amount of work being heaped on myself and my fellow students.  Pages and pages of readings to go through before every class, assignments coming out the wazoo.  I’m scared now.  My calendar is filling up as fast as my binders, and yet I feel that I know NOTHING!!!

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How am I going to learn all these theories, all the curriculums, and write all those lesson plans and papers and do all those presentations?

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I know that somehow, I will.  Although, I’m thinking that my family may not see me for days, beyond the cursory morning kiss goodbye in the hall as I fly out the door with my arms and back full of bags, all loaded up with texts and binders and highlighters.

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Going back to school has taught me something that I never knew about myself and it’s not just the fact that I am a bag lady…I have ADD.  Attention deficit disorder.  I get all fidgety and distracted in class every afternoon, after, say, 2 hours of class without a break.  My rumbling tummy keeps trying to tell me that its time for a snack, yet all I can think about is the pop machine in the hall.  The can of sprite calls to me every day at around 1:45.  I wiggle around in my seat and try to keep my attention on the interesting facts the instructor is sharing with us-and don’t get me wrong, it is interesting and I LOVE it!  But I can’t stop thinking about that damn pop machine and my afternoon indulgence/sugar high that I NEED to have.

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So I have a issues with sugar-so what!?  I’ve already admitted that repeatedly to you people, haven’t I-and at least I’m not buying the skittles that I really want in the candy machine NEXT to the pop machine.  And isn’t acceptance the first step on the road to recovery?

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To be truthful, I’m thinking I may need to upgrade my drug to the next level. And if a pack of Skittles, AND a can of pop doesn’t do it for me, then I may need to go a different route.  I may need something stronger that will target my obvious ADD issues.  Ritalin, perhaps…I know, I know, it’s a far cry from the drugs that were popular when I was in university the first time, but jeepers, I’m OLD now!!!!!

I’ve been sitting on my bed with my laptop on my lap, trying to think of something funny to write and I’ve been coming up empty.  My neck has been hurting constantly and I’m SICK of it.

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Sabrina came home from the park today with the gang and promptly barfed all over the kitchen floor. She is now lying beside me on my bed, alternating between moaning and crying.  She has wet cloths all over her head and neck to bring down her temperature and I’ve just medicated her with Advil and hubby has run out to get Tylenol, just in case. 

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I’m trying to read a 12 page subject outline from teachers college and Paulina has joined us on the bed, crying and sobbing as she has been doing for two straight days, because our beloved friends have moved from our neighbourhood to the UK.  Her hot tears are falling on my feet and upsetting me.  She cannot stop crying no matter how many times I beg her to.  She’s making me cry too.

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Then, oh, hello!  In comes Gregory.  He highjumps onto the bed, knocks my laptop and rolls around a little while I freak out.  Then he sweetly asks if he can brush my hair, and when I say ‘yes’ he jumps off and goes in search of a brush…Back he comes with a brush where he proceeds to brush my hair for about 15 seconds, asking why the girls are all crying.  Down he goes to play with the phone on my bedside table that isnt plugged in.

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And everytime I move I bump a crying girl, or a stupid prickly brush.

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Its better than the trip to emerg I thought I was going to take tonight.  But its so. not. funny.

So, I posted yesterday about the people who were watching the kids for us while I was at school at the beginning of this week.  Our 16 year old neighbour Melissa and my sister in law Maria have been very kind to help us.

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When I arrived home on Monday and Wednesday, Melissa and the kids had cleaned the floors and the kitchen.  When I arrived home on Tuesday, my sister in law had cleaned up the kitchen, folded and put away all the laundry that was on the dining table AANNNNDDDDDDD reorganized my two upstairs linen closets.  Like, seriously reorganized them, refolding every wayward towel so that we now no longer need to jump and throw them as high as we can onto the top shelf and quickly slam the door shut before it falls on our heads.

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My hubby came home and declared his happiness with our clean and organized home. He seems to have forgotten all the work that I did gutting the place to prepare it for me leaving, but that’s okay, credit where it is due.

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Hubby went to his downstairs room, where he keeps all of his clothes.  When he came up he was glowing!

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Apparently that bitch of a sister in law not only folded his laundry, but she also PUT IT AWAY!!!!!What the hell?  How dare she?  She went too far!  Now hubby keeps wishing aloud that he was married to a woman like her, because she did his laundry and put away his underwear.

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Honestly, how could she do that to me?  Now hubby is wondering what I’ve been doing all day long for the last (almost) 12 years….

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That Maria, so thoughtless, seriously.  I can’t believe her.  I’m so done with letting her take a vacation day from her work so that she can spend the day here, cleaning and babysitting for free.  So done. With her.