Here are your rose colored glasses dear...

It's always an interesting day when I read 7's blog and see how the world is for him. Most of the time I want to jump right over to my blog and do a rebuttal rant, but for the sake of his public and personal ego, I refrain. I know quite a few of his fans have an image of him in their minds that is far from my everyday reality and it just wouldn't be fair of me to ruin that, ya know? But today... today I have a bone to pick with Numerical Boy.

So he blogs about us moving into our apartment (our little house as Oliver calls it) and talks about how tired he. He says he loaded and unloaded the UHAUL. He credits me with changing diapers. HELLO?!?!?! I changed diapers? I didn't even have the kids that day because I was busy packing, loading, unloading, organizing, directing the other guys helping us, and keeping them all from either playing hackeysack or wrestling and body slamming each other on the ramp of the truck. I most certainly was not changing diapers. I don't know whose move he was helping with but it wasn't the same one I was working.

He also got to stop the moving process come Monday morning to go to work. I've been at it all week and I'm losing my mind. I had to look for 45 minutes today just to find the knife block after I dropped the knives on my foot. Luckily they are crap knives and pretty dull. Breakfast has been taking at least 30 minutes to get together for the kids each morning due to the constant reshuffling of boxes. I don't want to put anything in the cabinets there because the last people were pigs and I'm still cleaning the oh-so-hygienic particle board shelves. I've got a long list of unhappy things about this apartment, but it is somewhere we can call our own. I have a bedroom. I have a livingroom. I have my own kitchen again. YEAH.

I've left the kids with 7 for long enough. I hear screaming and wailing coming from the front room.

Dr. Atkins is killing me from beyond the grave.... heehee

Ok, time for a diet update. I fell off the wagon. Well, actually, it was more like I was pushed. I was being my charming self and grumpily listing all the foods I was craving and wanting to binge on when 7 got up, grabbed the keys and walked out the door. He returned a short while later with McDonald's french fries, donuts and vanilla ice cream. I guess I complained one time too many. My parents came home shortly thereafter and gave me that disappointed look that only parents can give and made me feel about 2 inches tall. BUT I DIDN'T BUY THE STUFF!!! I did eat it though. I mean geez, it was already in the house and you know that the fries get really gross if you let them get cold. But I took no joy in my forbidden fruit, and that really sucked. What is the point of cheating on your diet if you can't even do it without everything being flavored with guilt. On a positive note though, I did lose like 10 lbs. before my stumble. I'm looking into the south beach diet as a possible alternative since you do get to eat some of the things I love on it, and still keep it relatively low carb. Sine 7 is still doing Atkins, I can work with the two diets for meal planning. I also found out that I'm 40 lbs. lighter than I was last year at this time. Of course, part of that was little Charlie in utero, but it's still lost weight all the same. :-)~


7 says I'm much nicer when I get to eat carbs. I guess I've been far less bitchy and mean. I suppose it wasn't just my food that was low in sugar.

GRRR.... I'M GRUMPY!!

I've been in a bad mood today. Bad enough to make 7 actually ask me to like him. I guess I wasn't being too nice to him or something. I get in these funks every now and then and it pretty much gives me a perma scowl for a few days. Everything makes me crabby and mean spirited. A lot of it this time is worry about money, getting our taxes done, and getting moved.

Yesterday I drove down to LA for my bankruptcy hearing. I had to go by myself as 7 was working and my folks were watching the kids for me. I got lost as usual, but no biggie. So I met with the lawyer and the trustee and answered all the questions. Now I just wait to see if they grant my petition. Talk about feeling like a loser. I'm not even 30 yet and I've fucked up my credit so bad that I had to declare bankruptcy... a giant nasty black mark that will be on my credit for 10 years. I get really frustrated about it when I think about what I would have done differently had I known this was going to be my fate. But what could I have done so differently? We both had jobs when we bought the car. I was using birth control when I got pregnant, twice. I guess we just got a tough batch of cards dealt to us at first and hopefully things will be better in the future. Maybe we just weren't meant to live in LA. Maybe the universe was telling us that by sending all this crap our direction. Who knows. I sure don't. I have very few answers for anything at all. I have spent most of my life just floating in the current and getting pushed towards whatever was there.

About the only active move I've really made was dating 7 long distance. I could have easily just kept dating the fella I was already dating when I met 7. He was nice enough. But there was just something about 7 that made me change course. And now he drives me crazy! I swear, somedays I just wanna run screaming out of the house and not come back. He must be deaf, because I know he's not stupid. And even he has said he has perfected the art of laziness. This is a man who can't seem to carry his dirty clothes 5 feet to put them in a laundry basket. Instead he methodically builds the most disgusting mountain of fetid socks and oderific underwear right next to the bed. The worst part is that the fan blows right over it and bathes me in its lovely aroma all night. But he just can't seem to make it that 5 feet.

He also can ignore an obviously poopy diaper, a screaming child, or something like the garbage overflowing onto the floor for a week with impunity. It's only when I say something, quit doing the 18 things I was already doing, or yell at him, that he lifts his eyes from the hypnotic light of the tv screen and says, "Oh, I'll get that in a minute." This usually means one of two things; he'll get up and go hide in the bathroom till he is reasonably sure I've done it or forgotten about it, or that he'll go back to watching tv and then ignore my hostile stares and angry huffing in his direction until it's time for bed, then declare how very tired he is and pass out. Neither of which work for me.

Ok, so it's a rant about 7 kind of day. I told you I was in a bad mood. I'm hungry... I think this diet is making me grouchy because I'm always hungry. I don't like to cook and there just aren't any low carb convenience foods.

Urrrgh.