WTF are "Sick Days"?

It's late. I should be in bed, asleep, waiting on my four a.m. wake up call. Instead I'm here, because I couldn't go another day and leave this pretty little blog empty. The face lift looks pretty good don't you think?

I'm currently recovering from some kind of flu virus. The kind that hurts from your ears to your chest. The kind that makes you want to die every time you swallow. If I was a better person, I wouldn't complain at all. But I'm not, so here I am. I think my biggest complaint is that as a mother, I don't get sick days. Not really. Especially when one or more of your children is sick at the same time, which is totally what has happened over here. And yes, for a bit it totally sucked, and then it was kind of awesome, since we spent all day Saturday on the couch, watching Edward Cullen of all people. I was able to get a little sick time from work, but still had to log some hours Saturday night. It happens I get it, but really, a few sick days would be nice. 

Which brings me to the NyQuil commercial I saw last night. You know the one of the man, who says, "I've got to take a sick day", and then you see who he is talking to and it's his small son in a crib. Then it says something like "Dad's don't get sick days", as the camera shows the Dad peacefully sleeping. Okay, fine. Dad's need sick time too... But wait, immediately following that commercial was a DayQuil spot, of a woman asking for a sick day, then you realize she is asking her toddler aged daughter, then you see her during the day, with her daughter, and it says, "Mom's don't get sick days". I'm sorry, what? Are you telling me that Dad's get to take NyQuil and get a good night's sleep, but Mom's are designated DayQuil to make sure she puts on her big girl pants and can finish her "job", without sleep, or a nap, or even a hot meal? The Hubbs assured me that it was just a spot for cold medicine and that Moms or Dads or both can use NyQuil or DayQuil or whatever the hell they want. But I know. I see you "Ad-Man" I see you bending those gender stereotypes. I want a good night sleep, I deserve a good night's sleep... Or maybe I'm just bitter that I still don't get any sick days...

So as two of us are on the mend, and one of us is in the thick of it, we are slowly making our way towards Thanksgiving day, which is a ridiculous notion, because wasn't last Friday Halloween? I promise my next post will be less ranty, or what my bloggy friend calls, "Bitchy-Bitch".

Mostly I just wanted to write something in this pretty little space from Dream Thinker Designs.

Dead fish. Lice. Life Lately. {11.21.14}

"I couldn't make this shit up if I tried"

That is a constant lament when I talk to my bestie on the phone. How is life so much stranger than fiction? Just when you think you have it all under control... Something comes and pulls the rug out from under you. Or as in my case, pulls the possibly lice infested rug from under you and promptly instructs you to put it in the washer. On hot, with all the chemicals and detergent, and maybe some vinegar. Whatever. Let's talk about last Friday night.

Four Gifts: Wear {Slumber Party}

Today's four gifts is all about WEAR. This was an easy one for me since every year pajamas area always under the tree. Writing this post was so easy, I found all of these fabulous looks at Old Navy. Of course Old Navy isn't sponsoring this blog (insert ugly cry), but who cares. Their prices can't be beat and they always have fun and trendy items that can make any Christmas bright! I adore the pieces I found for the girls and I think I finally found something the Hubbs can't live without. Don't forget, this is a series with Alyson M, so join us, and link up! Now here is what will most likely be under our trees this year!

4 Gifts : Wear

What is the hardest thing about being a working mom?

For the past two weeks I have cursed "Time Hop". What is supposed to be a little app on my phone to remind me of what I was doing last year, or the year before, has turned into a gut wrenching look into my recent past. You see this time last year I was still a Stay At Home Mom. I still had things like free time and care free thoughts. There were still concepts like, "I'll get to it tomorrow", and "Don't worry, I'll take care of that this weekend". Those words are no longer in my vocabulary. Things have to get done today, or they don't get done at all. There are zero carefree thoughts, instead they have been replaced with stressed out, holy shit, thoughts. It's as if my Time Hop feed is someone else's life. Someone happier. Someone less stressed. Some other, better, more attentive mother. But just as I guilt myself into thinking I'm such a failure now at this life, I remember that it's not entirely the truth. 

How the f*ck is it November 17th?

I spent Sunday night in bed with a box of tissues. I wasn't sick, and it wasn't for very long, but I was having all of the feels. A missed form that should have gotten turned in to Caitlin's school last week, set my emotional breakdown for November in motion. Because I have an emotional breakdown every month. Because I'm a woman and that's the way of the world.