tuesday… right? today is tuesday?

yes, ok… the 6th. right? the 6th?

paul’s birthday is friday.

cards. can’t forget the cards. mine, jackson’s, and the dog’s.

THE BIG GIFT. must NOT forget THE BIG GIFT.

my knee resembles the balloon jackson got at trader joe’s.

even the reddish tinge. nice.

got an orthopod to see me today at 2 thanks to a cancelation.

someone must love me.

mother-in-law arrives tonight so i can be off my feet for the next 3 days.

magoo and i head to atlanta saturday.

sunday i go help with the twins. THE TWINS.

shit, my knee.

fuckin baby gate.

crap, i cussed twice in two sentences. mom will be mad.

i want my mommy.

new ottomans come today.

yes, ottomanS, plural… we got two.

our couch is 9 feet long.

we are big people. we need big furniture.

i hope this orthopod gives me better drugs than vicodin.

if i have to go in an MRI tube, i will lose my shit.

whatever, my shit is already lost.

i should start packing for seattle/portland trip.

returning from THE TWINS trip with 24 hours to repack and head out west for 10 days.

10 days no magoo.

cue tears.

but yay, cuz i’m getting this tattoo!!!

dad will not like that i’m putting it on my arm.

“rut ro reorge.”

i’m an inked mom.

i LOOOOOOOVE being an inked mom.

no, i don’t see myself going back to teaching.

my master’s degree will not serve a purpose in the future.

i’m a writer.

i have 4 book proposals going.

i just started writing fiction!!!

holy crap, can’t believe i just wrote that.

I’M WRITING FICTION!!!

i’m stoked.

i’m a mom.

i’m a writer.

i’m a gimp.

dammit i better not need surgery on my knee.

*big sigh*

how do people do this with more than one child?

honestly?

how?

oh, and how do people do this with their placenta???

tom… katie… suri… scientology… whut???

no, i didn’t just say that.

eyebrow wax thursday.

CANNOT forget that.

i need an agent.

really need to get on that and make that a priority.

need to call in some favors…

need to have my fuckin knee not make me want to drive an ice pick through my eye cuz maybe that would hurt less.

don’t trip over baby gates.

don’t get your foot caught on the handle of the baby gate as you step over it.

just take the damn thing down to walk into the next room.

sure, it might be more of an effort… but heed my words you parents of not-yet-toddlers.

don’t trip over baby gates.

seattle/portland bloggers, i will be out there oct. 17-27th.

let’s hang.

i think i’m running out of last minute favors to ask of my mother-in-law.

seriously. she should start running a tab on me.

i’ll have to be bed-ridden the next three days in order to help with THE TWINS come sunday.

oh i can’t wait to see my rach.

nana will have three straight days of magoo… and then return with pops to have 10 (yes, TEN) straight days of magoo while i’m out west with paul.

i’m a spoiled bitch.

can i ask for percocet?

can you ask for stuff like that? just out right ask for it?

i mean all they can do is say “no,” right? and then look at you like you’re a pill-popping-mom-junkie.

awesome.