with Karli Larson
The transition from stay-at-home mom to divorced-and-working-full-time mom can be challenging, and sometimes very lonely. Throw in a few cats, an ancient dog and one very brave boyfriend, and life gets downright crazy. Join me as I talk through my thoughts and struggles, my miscalculations and my triumphs. We're in this together, you and I.
When I'm not writing here you can find me over at work on the TisBest Philanthropy blog.
Urrrrgh. Aaaaaaack. Oooohhhhhhh. Erggggle.
I have a fever, a sore throat and a stuffed-up head. I hurt. I ache. You over there? Reading this? With your coffee and the cute hair? Yeah, you. Come over and make me dinner and pet my hair, please. What? No? Busy?
Um, that’s cool.
My mom is a goddess. She took the girls last night so I could moan and feel yucky with total abandon and try to sleep it off. I know I am awfully lucky.
But I slept and it is not off. It is so ON.
The Benadryl makes everything seem a little off and to the left by two inches. I am typing on the dog’s leg and he doesn’t seem to mind.
I will make a list of good stuff. That will keep me occupied until I can take the next dose of aspirin.
1) Being divorced is actually awesome! Because there’s just really no one home to complain to who would only roll his eyes. And there’s no one home who will ignore your needs. No one can actually see how pathetic you really are. Yay!
2) No one will push terrible soups containing MSG down your throat, or threaten you with things that sound okay, but in reality, taste terrible, like hot toddies.
3) No one will ask a million questions about where the girls’ clean underwear is. And you are spared the talking through the Benadryl sleep haze.
Yeah, so that’s three. I tried to come up with five, then four. But I’m stuck at three.
I have to go drink something. I have to pee. I am single, not at work, and pretty darn miserable. Ta-da!
I’m glad we all learned so much from this post. Now someone please drag me out back and shoot me.
Or come and pet my hair.
You’ll know the house by the terrible self-pitying moaning coming out of the upstairs windows.
Subscribe to blog via RSS