Slothtastic

My period has turned me into world's brattiest mom this month. All I want to do is eat chocolate and pizza and drink Diet Coke and play with Play Doh. Luckily we're fresh out of chocolate, I'm attempting to cook meals this week, and Deuce loves to play Play Doh.

He also likes to break it up into tiny, sock sticking pieces which I have to get on all fours to clean up and that feels like an injustice to me at the moment. But other than that it's an activity we both enjoy.

I'm on my second kind of pills since June and I'm still a crap-eating sloth for a week once a month. I mean, it's better than the pills that sent me into a homicidal rage (I think the trade name is Divorceterol). But Jesus H. Christ, tell me that every woman in the world spends a week out of every month forcing herself to do the most simple tasks and I will eat my hat. I don't know where my hats are. I will find a hat though, and I will eat it.

I made a deal with myself that if I can do the one load of laundry DeuceDad asked me to do (how dare he politely ask for clean work clothes so he can continue supporting our family?!), I will earn the reward of brainstorming ABC-Along 2009 topics in front of tivoed Law & Order. This is what it takes to accomplish something around here.

I'm saving my energy for when my little sculpter wakes up.