It’s after 2:30 PM, and I’m still in my pajamas. I did brush my teeth, take my drugs, and partake in some basic grooming. Real clothes were just too much, though.

I’m not sure why, but my nerves are shot. I’m exhausted. Any patience I had have long since departed. I intended to run to Target, Knitorious, and Trader Joe’s today. No way. Not in my frame of mind, and not with my kid, who is also malfunctioning.

I think we both have some sort of malaise. We both napped yesterday, which never happens anymore. Just now she spent ten minutes running delirious circles around the coffee table. That’s a sign that her wiring’s not right, right?

Other jobs I’ve left unfinished today, aside from clothing myself properly:

• I’m two rows away from finishing this knitting project, and yet I can’t seem to make myself knit those final 106 stitches.
• While making lunch today, I dropped a chicken nugget into the dogs’ water dish. Instead of removing it, I figured the dogs would stay out of my hair if they spent the day bobbing for nuggets. It’s worked, somewhat. They haven’t gotten the nugget out of the bowl, but they have managed to fling water all over the kitchen floor, which I haven’t wiped up.
• Speaking of lunch, I gave Clara Jane peas that were still frozen. But that’s okay, as that’s how she prefers them.
• Because I’m obviously lazy parent today, I turned on a movie for us. We didn’t finish it.
• B. took a frozen chuck roast out of the freezer this morning. Did I finish the job by putting it in a crockpot with potatoes, carrots, onions, garlic, and sauce-fixings? No.

But here’s a job I finished. As soon as I hit the Publish button, I will have finished NaBloPoMo!

Next up? Holidailies. I was going to skip, simply because I haven’t had much to say of late. But damn if I didn’t enjoy having the Holidailies readers board/committee thingie awarding several of my posts last year. That’s a motivator.

Just because I can’t seem to finish stuff I start today, maybe I’ll only put nine songs in the shuffle.

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I got online for the specific purpose of making this, my next-to-last NaBloPoMo post, and just about lost track of time. Good thing I don’t have a lot to say, because I only have an hour in which to say it. Instead of coming straight to my blog, I checked a message board I frequent and got sucked into playing this geography game. Yes, I’m that huge of a nerd. I got to level 10 three times.

I hate to blog about my hair two days in a row because, good lord, there are more important things. But today has somewhat revolved around my hair. For example, in the middle of storytime, Clara Jane announced, “My mom has pink hair. I mean, my mom has purple hair now. It was pink but now it’s purple.” All because there was mention in the story about creatures with pink Mohawks. Nothing like having my kid interrupt storytime so that everyone can look at the purple-haired freak. And yes, I enjoyed it.

I also dodged an attempted soul-saving via “A Charlie Brown Christmas”. There’s this other little girl who comes to storytime, and her mother rubs me the wrong way. No surprise, since we all know that most of the storytime moms rub me the wrong way. This mom has tried to sell me pyramid scheme stuff, which is a deal-breaker in my world. Her father brought their daughter today, and noticed that Clara Jane was hauling around the book version of “A Charlie Brown Christmas”.

“Hey! Have you ever watched that show?” he asked me.

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My mom’s birthday is coming up soon, and it’s a big one. One that ends in a zero. As in 6-0. There’s going to be a party, and I was put in charge of invitations. Because I’m a horrible daughter, I made the invitations with a photo of her, circa 1959, wearing saddle shoes and looking totally bershon because Granny made beans for her birthday dinner instead of fried chicken. I’d show it to you, but I need to save some fodder for her actual birthday.

Like I said, large-ish party. So what did I do today? I did this:

Okay, so it’s not as overt as the bright pink, or even the recent candy apple red stripes. I could almost pass for a normal, functioning member of society.

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Eh. Today was a lovely, ordinary day with nothing noteworthy. You know, the kind of days I like. Generally on such days I can still come up with something to blog about. I think I’ve finally reached the NaBloPoMo burnout point, because I just don’t feel like engaging my brain, connecting it to my fingers, and typing something that might be somewhat, even a little bit, worth reading.

How ordinary was my day? The most exciting moment involved being outside, in my pajamas, following Chloe the Basset through the front yard when the FedEx guy arrived. Thrilling stuff.

I intend for tomorrow to be blissfully boring. Clara Jane’s being babysat, which she doesn’t know yet because she’d just start the hysterics tonight and that’s not good for anyone. Then I’m getting my hair did (Guess the color!), possibly getting a massage, going to the gym, and doing some knitting at my neighborhood coffeehouse. Usually when I take a day off I wind up running errands or hanging out with friends. Not this time. I need the solo, pampering time. While this also isn’t great for blog fodder, at least there will be a new hair color to unveil.

Playdate Monday! Playdate Monday! And for the first time in several weeks, a Playdate Monday in which none of us were suffering life crises! While it’s great that we can bond together during times of trouble, it was lovely to have a day where none of us had a major problem to solve.

Well, except for one major problem: I’m not sure what Beqi and OtherRobin are feeding their kids. I think it might be curried laxatives because damn if those aren’t some pooping boys.  OtherRobin said that perhaps, like when women spend a lot of time together and their cycles synch, something similar happens with boys and poop. Either way, all we heard today was, “I dooped!” over and over and over.

Which brings me to The Worst Game in the History of the World. I went upstairs, where the kids were playing hide-and-seek. From the living room I caught whiff of that unmistakable, foul odor. You know the one. Since Clara Jane was standing beside me, I assumed it was her. I patted her butt. No doop.  Good. Even though my house smelled like a latrine, at least it was from doop that wasn’t my responsibility.

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Anyone who tags me for a meme on day 25 of NaBloPoMo instantly wins best friend status with me. That means Kathy P.’s welcome to come to my house, drink my coffee, eat my food, drink my Three Buck Chuck, listen to my ‘Mats CDs as loud as she wants, borrow my books, and crash in my spare room whenever she wants. That’s what being one of my best friends entitles you to.

Granted, I don’t really need blog fodder today. The fact that my 38-year-old shirtless husband is currently playing his first-ever game of “Dance Dance Revolution” should be fodder enough. I’m not sure I want to watch that long enough to get the details, though, so here we go:

1. Link to the person who tagged you
2. Share seven random things about yourself
3. Tag seven random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs
4. Let each person know they’ve been tagged by leaving a comment on their blogs (Don’t be shocked if I skip this step)

Seven Random Things About Me. Below.

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I really suck at being lazy and yet I feel like I spend a lot of time being lazy.

I slept like crap last night, which has been the norm of late, and I used that as an excuse to be lazy. B. had enough stuff planned four five people today. I made him edit that list because I couldn’t handle it. Today, I was in sore need of a day to just sit around and do some nothing.

And feel guilty about doing nothing, of course.

I watched one excellent movie (“Capote”) and I’m currently mired in a fairly terrible one (“Elizabethtown”.  I don’t know, but I have a problem with a movie that has a quasi-comedic depiction of someone making a stabbing suicide machine with Elliott Smith playing in the background. And yet, I can’t stop watching.)  I also learned how to make Alton Brown’s coconut cake. Clara Jane learned, too. I guess time spent snuggling with my kid while learning how to make a cake I’ll never make, while lazy, isn’t a waste of time.

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Yeah, that’s what I’ve got today.

• Even though the trip to the hometown was fun, I’m ever-so-thankful to be home.
• I’m thankful for the shout-out from The Riverfront Times. Finally, my persistence pays off with fame and, um, one extra blog hit. Yay!
• I’m thankful that I can see the bottom of the turkey, stuffing, and noodle leftover containers because frankly, the vegetables supplied by the celery and onions in the stuffing just aren’t quite cutting it, if you know what I mean. Good thing there’s still half a pumpkin pie in the fridge. Pumpkin’s a vegetable.
• I’m thankful I submitted to the portable DVD opiate. Yeah, I probably killed 50 of my kid’s IQ points by letting her watch “Curious George” and “The Wonder Pets” for the three-hour drive, but I had to sacrifice them in order to save my 483 remaining brain cells. The kid can spare them. I can’t.
• I’m thankful that the Black Friday madness has moved online because I have never, no will ever haul ass to sit outside a store at 5 AM for anything. For U2 tickets, yes. For anything else, eh. Instead I sat in my pajamas and spewed obscenities at Best Buy, Knit Picks, Old Navy, Amazon, and KMart’s websites from the comfort of my parents’ home. I also went completely apeshit overboard and violated most of my anti-commercialism values. Maybe I’ll feel better when my yarn, CDs, DVDs, and sweater dress in Roasted Eggplant arrive.

I have photos to illustrate other things for which I’m thankful.

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I don’t want to, but I made a vow …

It’s been a lovely, dysfunction-free day. Food. Family (the ones I like). Dominoes (the game, not the pizza). More food. No football or parades. Good.

I’m pretty much monosyllabic at this point. Not because the holiday has worn me out; just because it’s been a good, busy day.

My grandpa, who’s been mostly deaf for a long time, recently got hearing aids. Thanksgiving miracle! It was delightful to not have everyone yelling so that Chuck can hear them. Now the rest of us need hearing aids because instead of his usual high volume, he now whispers. It’s good, though. We can have conversations with him without him wandering off because he can’t hear us.

I’m thankful that he finally got to really hear Clara Jane. Even more thankful that she opted to be pithy and calm instead of a screaming wild child, since he’s not used to loud noises. She went sort of nuts about Old Grandpa today. They played “Store”, watched “The Backyardigans”, and talked and talked and talked. I have photos to illustrate, but I’m too lazy to upload them.

The Cuz, her brother (who, techinically, is also The Cuz. Or perhaps The Cuz, Jr.), B., Clara Jane and I did partake in some consumerism of which I’m not proud. I hate that stores and restaurants have started staying open on Thanksgiving, depriving people of family time. Then again, there are probably plenty of people who’d rather have holiday pay than family time with good reason. Regardless, shopping on Thanksgiving is just weird. For one thing, I think I was having triptophyne hallucinations while wandering around a certain discount store. But we got a good deal on a little acoustic guitar for Clara Jane’s Christmas, so I guess it was worth it.

What am I thankful for? Everything. Just everything. Good and bad. I’m thankful that everything eventually balances.

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fromRobin W <poppymom at gmail.com>
toRobin W-B <robindawn at gmail.com>,

dateNov 21, 2007 11:35 PM
subjectDay Twenty-One – What Happens When I Forget My Login Info
mailed-bygmail.com

hide details 11:35 PM (27 minutes ago) Reply

I tell ya, the planets are conspiring against me today. For starters, it took us six hours to make the holiday trip to my hometown, instead of the usual three. Clara Jane was a wreck; she spent most of that time crying and screaming for us to not leave her. She’s been doing that a lot, but it’s increased exponentially since last weekend’s drama. Poor kid. Poor everyone trapped in a truck for six hours in traffic and rain/snow with the poor kid.
 
Now that we’re finally on terra firma, I can’t connect my laptop. Not surprising, since my mom’s wireless router has never worked. No prob. I’ll post on her computer.
 
Who knew I would forget my login and password? Not me, that’s for sure. It’s 11:08 PM. I’ve got a rather long-winded post I want to write. B.’s coaxing Clara Jane to sleep, so I’m unable to do my standard call to tech support: “B.! It’s broken!”

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