Now I understand how a duck feels

Sometimes you just have to laugh. If not, you'd cry.

As I stand at my kitchen counter two minutes before the boys are supposed to go to bed trying to make a calendar to help them STAY in bed (the idea: stay in bed instead of ump-teen "I need to pee," "I've got a splinter in my toe, "I've got a pimple on my butt cheek," etc., and they get a sticker...and stickers equal treats), I realize I don't have a ruler to make the lines in the calendar, nor can I find a pen. Nice. But, I'm a resourceful woman, and rather than call it quits, I use the edge of my son's Superman coloring book and my other son's lizard pen. Ok, so it's not pretty, but it's done. I tell them how it's going to work and they're psyched. Success--at least for now. Yay, me!

So, I sit down--the first time in hours--and stare out of my kitchen window, still glowing about our new patio pavers that we put down in hyperspeed while the boys napped (I swore I'd never be one of those people who got excited about things like this). Anyway, I'm excited because for months, I've watched out of the window of our kitchen as our dogs dug holes to China and ate lava rocks (and whatever else yummy--and usually dead--they found). Now, for once, we're hole-free. Mory, however, our 14-year-old scruffy mutt, has decided that holes are no longer the game of choice...and as I gaze out the window, he proceeds to "drop big poopies out of his bum" (as the kids say) right onto our new pavers. You've got to be frickin' kidding me. I've got a whole yard with grass and he picks the new pavers??? I really don't need a dog. I'm serious...or the other one. Ok, yes, I am a huge animal lover, but I'm ready to set both of them free at this moment, because if one does it, I know the other (our 11-year-old Doberman) will follow. Whatever, it'll go away eventually, right? Rain, wind...

So much for glowing...except perhaps that I just realized I'm going to get a haircut in two weeks. Granted, I'll probably have to reschedule it 2 or 3 times because of my nutty schedule, but hey, the thought of getting a neck and head massage--if even just for 5 minutes--is just beautiful. Dash from work to the salon, let my stylist play with my hair and massage my head for a half hour, then rush to preschool and get the kids so I can rush home and make some semblance of dinner, so then I can get back onto my computer. Ahh...the joy of being a duck--calm on the surface and legs paddling madly beneath the water.