We all go through periods in our lives where we are incredibly busy. You're doing so much for so long that you don't remember falling asleep at night, you're so tired. The day is done, you shower away the grime, have a cocktail (I recommend Tito's organic vodka mixed with Sweetleaf's mint & honey tea, super refreshing) and you collapse into bed for a quick puppy snuggle, then it's light's out. Just gone. We've been 30% busier than everyone else on the planet to the point where I haven't remembered that moment before falling asleep since June.
The good news is that I have my punch drunk moments, joking to random people about our impending nuptials, and how it's an upgrade for me since everything is MINE now. I'm joking, of course. no I'm not.
The bad news is that I haven't been spending as much time as I usually do with the dogs. Their spoiled asses are used to three treats a day, preferably in a crystal bowl and there better be variety dammit! Regular Shiatsu massage appointments are de riguer, and baby talk words of encouragement every single time they make a solid poo are standard to the point that I don't think either of them could loosen their bowels without them. Instead, I have been combing crap out of their undercoats so it doesn't get all over the newly cleaned carpets, and making them stare at me through French doors for hours at a time while I tile and paint. The looks they give me, the sadness in their eyes, I can practically hear the strains of the royal dirge through the thick panes of glass. It all boils down to one thing: BAD MOMMY.
But then nine or ten o'clock rolls around, we snuggle on the bed, and all is forgiven, even Daddy's scary expletive heavy outbursts when he mis-measured the tile yesterday, and how Mommy smelled as bad as a rotten tuna that just fell out of Tamra's blimp hanger of a birth canal from sweating over thin set as hard as Cameel sweats on the toilet when her meds aren't working. Then....zzzzzzzzzzzzz
