Sunday Night Wrap-Up
Can I get any more boring? Let me answer for you: "Yes, I
can." I will be going back to work tomorrow after my little
hiatus for surgery (oh, did I mention, I WOKE UP DURING
THE FREAKIN' OPERATION?). Yeah, well, I thought I
might have mentioned it in passing. I wrote a 4-page letter to
the Director of Surgical Services, which I will mail on the way
to work tomorrow. I hope I don't have to join the Patient
Protection Program.
The weather is seriously messed up. It is supposed to be near
80 degrees this week. HELLO! It's NOVEMBER! (I must have
a thing about shouting tonight.)
I should be upstairs packing the boys' lunches, putting a load
of laundry in the dryer, and laying out clothes for tomorrow.
I should be washing the dishes. No dishwasher for me! I should
be plugging in the GameBoys so they will be charged for the
ride to school, thus buying me 30 minutes of car-singing time.
I should get a life! We don't always do things we should, now
do we?
I made a nice roast for supper. When I was a kid, we had roast
every Sunday. Now I know why. It's easy. Hillbilly Husband
and I ate the roast, while #1 son had some potatoes, 1 carrot,
some raw carrots, ranch dressing, a biscuit without the top or
bottom, and some mini french toast frozen thingies. #2 son had
some mini pancakes with syrup, a mini sausage biscuit, and a
regular biscuit with butter. No wonder I'm so tired all the time.
Just getting these kids to eat is a full-time job. I know I should
give them what we have and let them go hungry if they refuse.
But I can't do it.
I have nothing to rant about, nothing interesting to report, no
issues with the HH, and I'm all out of my fake vicodin. Guess
it's time for bed.
can." I will be going back to work tomorrow after my little
hiatus for surgery (oh, did I mention, I WOKE UP DURING
THE FREAKIN' OPERATION?). Yeah, well, I thought I
might have mentioned it in passing. I wrote a 4-page letter to
the Director of Surgical Services, which I will mail on the way
to work tomorrow. I hope I don't have to join the Patient
Protection Program.
The weather is seriously messed up. It is supposed to be near
80 degrees this week. HELLO! It's NOVEMBER! (I must have
a thing about shouting tonight.)
I should be upstairs packing the boys' lunches, putting a load
of laundry in the dryer, and laying out clothes for tomorrow.
I should be washing the dishes. No dishwasher for me! I should
be plugging in the GameBoys so they will be charged for the
ride to school, thus buying me 30 minutes of car-singing time.
I should get a life! We don't always do things we should, now
do we?
I made a nice roast for supper. When I was a kid, we had roast
every Sunday. Now I know why. It's easy. Hillbilly Husband
and I ate the roast, while #1 son had some potatoes, 1 carrot,
some raw carrots, ranch dressing, a biscuit without the top or
bottom, and some mini french toast frozen thingies. #2 son had
some mini pancakes with syrup, a mini sausage biscuit, and a
regular biscuit with butter. No wonder I'm so tired all the time.
Just getting these kids to eat is a full-time job. I know I should
give them what we have and let them go hungry if they refuse.
But I can't do it.
I have nothing to rant about, nothing interesting to report, no
issues with the HH, and I'm all out of my fake vicodin. Guess
it's time for bed.
posted by Hillbilly Mom at 10:26 PM
6 Comments:
feeding kids doesn't get any easier when they get older. My oldest finaly chilled out about 16 (he's 17) My daughter was always a good eater, but the youngest makes me want to pull my hair out. He eats no veg not potatoes and only some meat.
I haven't made a meal just for me since...
Hey there Hillbilly Mom,
In response to your question on my blog, I've been sworn to secrecy, but I can at least tell you that the location is in Iron County. I'm not sure I could even get back to the site by myself. LOL.
What county do you live in?
DayBy,
My youngest actually ate better when he was a little tyke. He even enjoyed the broccoli and cheese at the daycare, and corn as well. Of course, he did cry one time when I cooked some mashed potatoes. He wanted the "kind from a box like Vicki makes at daycare." So...I had to buy potato flakes to make the kids' mashed potatoes.
Chick,
That county is very close to me. I'll let you know.
Wah wah wah. When your husband bitched like this you complained. I'm gonna give you the sage advice my grandma and mother always gave me. It has been passed down to my children to carry out the tradition. Die quietly. ;) Don't come beat me now HM!
Jules,
Do not incur the wrath of Hillbilly Mom. With Rebecca not posting regularly, I'm itchin' for a feud. You will be placed on double-secret probation if you do not desist from trying to de-whine me. I will die as loudly as I please, thank you, and I just may do it while I'm supposed to be under anesthesia. So there, Miss Nonwhineypants. Nyah, nyah.
Let me leave you with a little saying, Jules. THE SQUEAKY WHEEL GETS THE GREASE. And I'm all about getting my fair share of grease. ;)
Actually, I am satisfied that someone reads my whines and has a comment about them.
I'm glad you wrote and mailed the letter!
I honestly don't think you will be labled a "whistle blower". I wouldn't however use that guy for anything ever again.
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