Yet another day in the life.

Oh, Lordy mercy. This morning I threw my neck out.

I guess that's the correct phrase. This morning as I was sitting up in bed I turned my head to the right and reached for my glass of water with my right hand. Then I died a slow and painful death.

Actually then I had an intense burning, fiery, the-devil-is-giving-me-a-shoulder-rub-with-his-charred-burning-hands sensation in the left side of my neck and shoulders. It was almost as cool as hitting myself in the face with a shovel. I somehow managed to put the glass of water back on the table and lie there thinking, okay, I can't move. It was like, I was capable of moving, but when I even thought about it the sensation got worse.

I somehow reached over and got my cell phone and texted Jason, yes that's right I texted my husband who was in the kitchen at the time, and said, "I'm dying. If you want to pay your last respects come back here but don't expect any sexy stuff because I can't move." Actually I just said, "Come here."

So eventually after aspirin and rest and a heating pad, my husband left me there alone, immobile, in the bed. I decided that I didn't want to lie about in bed all day, but when I tried to sit up, the pain was just too intense. So that's when my genius that I inherited from my mother kicked in and I thought, I'll just roll out of bed. Simple. So I simply rolled myself over, falling out of the bed, and narrowly escaping slamming my face into the corner of the nightstand.

What you don't know is that I used to be a guest-star on the Benny Hill show and that's where I learned all of these righteous comedy techniques.

Anyways, I managed to get up, managed to get towels and get the shower turned on, and then I stepped into the shower.

And then I slipped and fell down, right on my ass, in the shower, alone in the house.

When I later talked to Jason I said, "And I could be there still, drowned in the shower, and subsequently your water bill would be OUTRAGEOUS."

Now go and read this for a laugh.

P.S. Heard at work: "I'd rather be a good liver than have one." Also, "I'd rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy."

Headache- check. Plague- check. Sheer panic- check.

You remember all my whining about "ob la di", about how something is ALWAYS happening?

When I got out out to my car last night, the battery was dead. THE BATTERY WAS DEAD, I TELL YOU. Jason came up and jumped me off, but it wouldn't hold a charge, so we had to borrow money to buy a new battery and get it in there and working asap so's we could both go to work today.

AND THEN, this morning, my NEW phone crashed. I spent my lunch hour speeding from one end of town to the other and back again for it to suddenly start working again while I was standing in the phone store, and for them to be like, "Well, let's just give it a couple of days. It might be fine now."

Then my boss is out sick today so I'm doing both our jobs AND IT'S SCARY. I'M SCARED.

This all gives a whole new meaning to that line in Almost Famous, "It's all happening!"

Sometimes it seems like things never stop happening, never slow down, never stay good for very long. Nothing catastrophic is happening, and I am thankful that we're all (relatively) healthy and happy and warm and dry and all that.

But sometimes I wish we could have a couple of weeks of calm, of placid waters, of little to no disturbance.

Reed and I both have walking pneumonia. When my doctor did a chest x-ray he said that it had "infiltrated" my lungs "severely". What that means is I feel like doody. He said it could take as long as four weeks for me to get well. FUCK THAT. I was like, "HAHA. I would like to be well this afternoon, please."

Luckily I have a job where I can sit at my desk and do my work quietly and drink hot chocolate. With only a tiny splash of bourbon. IT'S FOR MEDICAL PURPOSES, CALM DOWN.

You probably are aware that I've had some phone issues and then I bought a new phone last weekend. Well, my new phone "crashed". LUCK, PEOPLE. IF YOU DON'T HAVE ANY, GO BUY SOME AT TARGET.

Of course I've already spoken with my carrier and I can exchange the phone for one that works, it's just the damn principle, the CIRCUMSTANCIAL BULLSHIT that brings these kinds of things about. It took me a long time to re-enter everyone's phone numbers into this phone, to set up all my accounts and get everything aligned correctly. Now I have to start over, and I'm whining about it.

Anyway, ob la di and all that. More later from my contagious, infected self. If you're coming to my house, bring a mask and some Clorox wipes.

I now have a new phone, so feel free to call and text.

The screen on my old phone stopped woorking a few days ago which resulted in my bawling like a baby today after trying to deal with a bill collector for about twenty minutes. When I started to feel like I was going to pass out I handed my headset- the only way my phone was working- to Jason.

Then I went out and bought a phone.

Blahblahblahiphoneblahblah.

So I've been able to spend plenty of time updating my Amazon wishlist- my boss frequently deems it "break time", in which we wander about the internet. But all the stuff I do on the internet is blocked here, so I find myself looking at all the interesting stuff on Amazon. I've found a good flash drive, some nice presents for Reed, some rings I like, clothes, pants, etc. etc. ETC.

Have you ever heard of the Kindle? I want one. I've been doing an amazing amount of reading over the past few months, so I feel like I would actually get lots and lots of use out of it.

Of course, no one has to remind me how broke I am right now and therefore unable to buy food, much less a $359 wireless reading device, when I can check books out from the liberry for free.

Speaking of books, has anyone else been reading this Twilight series? I realize that I am, like, the LAST person to get on this train, but holy jeez, are they good. I finished Twilight in 24 hours, and then I finished New Moon in 48 hours. I am anxiously awaiting the arrival of the third book at the Leeds Library.

Also, my cell phone suddenly stopped working. This isn't a billing issue; something is actually wrong with my phone. I can send and recieve texts but not phone calls. Scratch that: I can make and recieve phone calls, but I can't hear whoever is on the other end. So Jason or my dad or whoever I'm calling knows I'm calling, but when they answer I can't hear them at all. I think it must be the mouthpiece/speaker/whatever it's called that's messed up.

This is a big deal to me since we no longer have a landline at our house. I realize that I can still call 911, but it still gives me the creeps to have no way of making phonecalls when I'm home or in the car without Jason. So y'all text me every now and then to make sure I'm alive, okay?

Ah, a year's worth of posts.

This is my 365th post. If you start reading my blog today and read one entry per day it will take you one year to read the whole thing. Of course, I'll keep posting, so it will actually take you longer, so it's actually meaningless.

Anyways, this post is coming from my Mama's house as our internet has finally disappeared. Phone and cable had been cut off long ago but the internet stayed; I assumed we were picking up someone else's wifi. Alas, no it's gone, so our internetting will be few and far between.

This week I am working on another article for Lipstick and continuing the job hunt.

Also, it appears that my check card has been stolen. I have no idea when it happened as we've had so little money I haven't even attempted to use it in about two weeks. Now it's suddenly not in my wallet.

I'm glad bad things rarely happen to us, so when bad things like this happen I can manage to be all, "Oh, well. It's not that bad. At least the rest of my life is going swimmingly."

I can't imagine.

Oh, Lordy. Communicating with the folks at the unemployment office is like being from Alabama and trying to communicate with that little guy who calls me from India about my Mastercard bill: difficult, to avoid using any expletives. So I'm still waiting to find out if I'm going to get any money for not having a job. Shouldn't one get paid for not working? I should think so. At least then I can get our cable cut back on, therefore providing myself with something to do with all this free time.

As it is I am washing, washing, washing clothes and sheets and socks and towels and the cat and my armpits and the dishes and my car and the bills and anything else that repulses me.

Kane and Jude stayed with us this weekend and they are just as smart-assed as usual. So at least their mom and step-dad haven't managed to FUCK that up yet.

In other news, my kid is an even bigger smart-ass than his brothers. It's like God said, "Okay, let's, just for fun, take all the smart-ass Kane and Jude got, and all the smart-ass Jason and Buffy got, and smush it together, give it blonde hair and a fucking cute smile and see what happens."

What happens is I almost die, every day, either from the cute overload that occurs in my house every single day or from the gouging of my eyes with screwdrivers after Reed gleefully shouts "WHAT THE HELL? WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?"

And, really, where the FUCK is he getting all this awful language?

"Don't think the sun's comin' out today; it's staying in. It's gonna find a better way."

I think we really have to be out of our house in the next couple of weeks. This whole time I've been telling myself it's not that big of a deal, at least we're all healthy (if we don't count my being an absolute crazy person), at least we're surviving, etc.

I'm suddenly realizing how sad it is. We've lived here for three years now. It's the first house Reed ever lived in, the house we brought him home to. It's the house that Kane and Jude moved into with us. It's the first house that Jason and I moved into together. It's the first yard we've ever shared, the first yard that we watched Reed play in, the first porch we've ever had to spend time with our friends on.

In this house I've watched Reed grow from a teeny baby to a little boy. It is at once terrifying and beautiful and gut-wrenching and awe-inspiring, watching this person grow and learn and change, remembering that I grew him inside me and he was once a tadpole and now he runs and plays and laughs. In this house he learned to make jokes and share with his brothers (sometimes) and pick himself up after he falls.

In this house I have watched Kane grow into an adolescent, turn from a kid who watches cartoons into a near-teenager who... watches cartoons- just different cartoons. He's growing into a young man who likes to help me around the house and likes to watch his youngest brother and likes to help him learn and grow.

In this house I have watched Jude's continued evolution into a middle child, a kid who is too young to be a grown-up and too big to be a baby. He continues to amaze me with his ability to be a complete badass, to be like hanging out with one of my friends (Brock, I'm looking at you- argumentative, difficult, challenging, entirely too smart, physically dangerous).

In this house I've watched my marriage grow into something that I know with every particle of my being that I cannot live without. I've been reminded over and over again how much I need Jason, want him, respect him. I've felt myself continue to grow into a person who will never be at the center of her own universe again, to enjoy that separation from myself, to enjoy the people who have taken the place in the center. I've hoped and strived to fill the roles that I've made for myself here with these four other people. I've hoped and strived to be able to continue playing some part in the lives of the people who don't live here with me, the people who I count on to be there when I'm scared or lost, my extended family, my very best friends who I love so much.

And now we have to move and I'm just a little heart-broken about it. We'll make new memories one day in a new place and at least we have each other and thank goodness my mom is here for us and all that, but it's still hitting me kind of hard. I'm sure I'll get over it. It just takes a few hours to get myself back out of the center again.

"I still say that if you don't want to raise kids, DON'T HAVE THEM."

Man, this stuff with Kane and Jude is consuming me, has consumed me all day long.

If we make this change that their mom wants to make, they will be with her for every week day during the school year except for school holidays and every other weekend during the summer. The rest of the time they will be with us- every weekend during the school year, every holiday and day off from school, and all summer except for the every other weekend when they're at their mom's.

The reason that this is a big deal is this: Jason and I both HAVE TO work full time in order to afford our mortgage, our bills, our food, etc. We both work five days a week; sometimes Jason works six. I ALWAYS work Saturdays, and Jason ALWAYS works Saturdays and Sundays. We both work in retail, so we both always work during school breaks and holidays. At Christmas time, for example, we are off on Christmas day and that's it.

Kane and Jude's mom and and stepdad, on the other hand, DO NOT HAVE TO WORK. Neither of them work. At all. Period. EVERY DAY IS AN OFF-DAY. So when the kids stay with them on weekends and holidays and in the summer, they have the ability to go to movies, the McWane center, day trips; they go on vacations and camping trips and road trips. They have a brand new swimming pool at their brand new apartments where they go swimming every single day in the summertime. And they can all sleep as late as they want to, every single morning.

That's why this arrangement works out pretty well- we are on a fairly strict schedule, and Kane and Jude's school schedule just slides right into that schedule. We never go to the movies, we never go swimming; we very, very rarely go on vacation and when we do, it's a weekend at a friend's house a few hours away, not anything remotely exciting for a kid. At our house there are rules about bedtime and how much time can be spent watching television or playing video games; at their mom's house there are no such rules.

So if this swap happens, they will be at their mom's house for the school week, and then they'll be at our house on the weekend while Jason and I work and they do nothing but sit in the living room. I'm not exaggerating- there will be nothing for them to do. Then during their awesome-ass summer, they will stay with us for several ten-day stretches during which Jason and I will work, and they will sit on the couch. During all the excitement of spring break and Christmas vacation, they will sit on the couch while Jason and I work.

Granted Jason and I are home at night, which means most days we'll get our whole three-and-a-half hours with them before bedtime, during which they will watch television and play video games since that's the only time we allow it. We don't feel like we can move their bedtime back because besides the fact that THEY need the sleep, Reed, Jason, and I need the sleep, too. Their bedtime is just one step in a progression of steps every night that lead to Jason and I falling into bed.

This is all besides the one big flashing neon sign of a reason why I don't think this can work: I'm not convinced that Kane and Jude are old enough to be left home alone for eight or nine hour stretches for several days a week. When Jason told their mom that we didn't have anyone to keep them on those days, her answer was "You better work on getting those days off." Right. Jason will just phone on in that he's going to need to be off from May 28 until August 8 this summer. Thanks for the advice. Even if his employer would go right along with it, that would reduce his paychecks from 80 hours of pay to about 16. The good news is that we have all these piles of money all over the house that have been just DRIVING ME BATTY, and now we can finally put them to good use. Again, THANKS FOR THOSE JEWELS OF KNOWLEDGE, YOU SHINING EXAMPLE OF A PARENT, YOU.

This is all really just an big indicator of what I'd been fearing recently- that their mom is still, for the most part, mentally unstable and totally self-involved. And delusional. And assy.

So, we're exploring our legal options. I think two things are possible. Either someone will wave something shiny in front of her and this will all be forgotten, or it's going to get a lot uglier before it gets better. Right now I'm praying for the first and counting on the second.

Scratch, scratch, scritch scratch.

So last night, totally exhausted, Jason and I snuggled up in bed around ten. Jason wasn't in the best mood because I had nagged him to fold a load of jeans while I washed the dinner dishes, so when we started hearing the scampering, scraping and scratching above our heads he wasn't happy.

I've mentioned the squirrels fucking in our ceiling; last night they weren't so much fucking as squirreling- scratching about, making noises, just generally making angry the man of the house. Jason got up and banged on the ceiling a few good times, which did nothing whatsoever. He went poking about and stepped into our closet to have a listen from there; he said, "Buffy. Come here."

I stepped into the closet and followed his pointing finger to discover a little hole in the ceiling, a little place where something had popped or scratched or scraped through the popcorn.

I have to tell you, I NEARLY SHAT MYSELF. Now I can't stop thinking about squirrels and rodents and RABIES, RABIES, people. It has made it's way into the house!! It has GUTS and GUMPTION and I will run away if I see it. Jason jammed a small suitcase underneath it so whatever has been poking its rabies-laden nose through there can do so no longer, but now I'm thinking, it'll just do it again! Next thing I know there will be little holes everywhere in the ceiling, with little noses and eyes poking through! GROSS. SCARY. I mean, what we heard last night was likely the sounds of the next hole, the next stop on the way to Buffy's insanity.

It's a short trip.