Stunday

Apparently, I am stunned today.

Hence, Stunday.

I'd like to take this time to sheepishly retract any statements made about "not minding" the time change, or that Mondays "aren't so bad" and will gingerly place my right foot in my mouth. I knew I should have gone for that pedicure. 

Blergh.

The whole shitstorm of this morning really began yesterday around 4:25 pm when I glanced into the backseat and saw F leaning back in his carseat, half-eaten bag of Lays ketchup chips in his hand, mouth wide open, fast asleep. It was just too cute to disturb, so I decided I'd let him have an hour. Which turned into two. And a half.

Then it came bedtime, at 8:30. Four hours after he'd drifted off to sleep in the car, there wasn't an ounce of sleepiness in my child. He bounced and rolled and tossed and turned and giggled and talked and pretended to snore and yelled at the cat and OH MY GOSH MAMA WHERE IS MY LEGO until I finally put a pillow over my head and rolled over. At 10:45 pm.

And then my alarm went off at 5:30 am and I muttered a few four-letter-words before hitting snooze and declaring it a "bad hair Monday". But then, without warning, it was 6 am and I really needed to get moving. Bright-eyed and bushy tailed, F sat up and asked if the game I'd told him I'd download but didn't really (thanks Mom!) was ready to play with. So then, I had to buy the app because HE NEEDED IT OH MY GOODNESS MAMA. And I would like to teach him that keeping our promises is a thing, too. 

So I made coffee, and without looking at it before I started making out with the cup (staring is rude, you guys), I missed the fact that the cream had curdled and you can pretty well guess how that ended. Related: I need to scrub my kitchen cupboards when I get home today.

And then, at 7:20 - undercaffeinated but wearing clothes - I was so sure that I had everything we could possibly need for my first day of my last week of work, and F even had his pants pulled up and boots on the right feet. Out the door ten minutes late, and yet at preschool on time because Mama went rogue and made a U-turn on Herring Cove Road because it's Monday and I'm crazy like that... and I realized we had no snow pants.

If anyone needs me, I'm setting up an IV Keurig drip. And then going home to find those cursed snow pants so my kid doesn't have to sit inside by himself. 

A Classic Monday

The sound of a glass shattering is a highly-effective alarm. 

If you don't believe me, I'll lend you my devilish playful kitten for a night and you can perch a glass of water on your nightstand. Just be aware that you might not be able to set your wake-up for a specific time, but I am considering recording the sound and selling it on iTunes. THAT is how I'll make my millions.

The last 24 hours were pretty typical of the end of weekend/beginning of work week turnaround. As I was preparing to go to bed, I felt the telltale tingle of a cold sore brewing on my lip and rushed to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription to nip it in the bud. It meant sitting in their waiting room for 40 minutes. Then I laid in bed, contemplating my exciting news (an update is coming, I promise) and worrying about not falling asleep, and being tired this morning.

For the record, I am fucking exhausted this morning. 

So far, my two week kidcation is not off to a good start, but I'm optimistic that it can only go up from here. 


If not, I might just stay in bed for the next two weeks.

But, right now, it remains to be a classic I don't want to wake-up kind of Monday, and in spite of my best efforts, two coffee and a fantastic breakfast, I'm still struggling with a major case of the dreaded Mondays.

How I feel, and kind of look. Our glasses match.