Having a litter box. In my bathroom. For years (YEARS!) my two cats were house broken and dutifully went outside to do their business. But then this past winter — not even a really cold one — they started using our bathmats as their personal toilet. So we removed the bathmats. But then when we showered, we put down towels so no one would break a neck. And they started peeing on the towels.
Now we’re back to the land of litter, and it sucks MUCHAS PELOTAS GRANDES. Litter on the floor, sticking to my feet, and tracking into the bedroom. One of them often joins me in business doing, meaning that even when my kids aren’t around, I can’t pee in peace. Not to mention our crotchety old male cat has had some, um, tummy troubles, and my GOD his ass stinks.
The only upside is that I don’t clean the litter box. Not so much of an upside for Christian though.
Kids waking me up in the middle of the night. End of story.
Housework. It’s overrated, no?
My hair. Oh my hair! Remember when it used to be curly? I blamed my loss of curls on an overprocessed highlight job almost 2 years ago, and that’s why I chopped all my hair off a year ago. But my hair gurl says that hair continues to change up to two years after your last kid. Zoe was coincidentally two when we were talking about this. Now my bob has grown out and guess what? No curls. It’s rather gross looking.
Counting to 3. Let me clarify. I can count to 3 all day long. I don’t really mind. What I hate is counting to 3 to get my kids to do something. It works. It does. As a short term solution. The problem is that they are deaf to my regular requests and hear nothing until I start counting. How hard is it to just do something the first time I ask???
Carpet. Look y’all. The carpet in our house is not new. We’ve lived here 7 years, and judging by how much crap has happened to it since we moved in (think pets, vomit, pee, miscellaneous mystery liquids), thinking of what all is in that carpet from the previous owners makes me want to rip it up and live with the cold, hard concrete floors until we can put in hardwoods. Although concrete floors would make us the hippest people in this neighborhood.
Spotify, except the Maroon 5 radio station that I swear someone put on there as a cruel joke, and now I can’t delete it. So don’t judge me by my Spitofy stations. They are like 99% cool and just that 1% douchebag. But I AM gaga over Lana del Rey, Band of Horses, and Jim James right now.
Reading. After a few weeks of nasty deadlines and wasting time and such, I finally got my act together and dove back into reading. I had to say I quit on a book and start another, but I’m happy to be reading again. I just finished The Kitchen House and started The Bloggess’s Let’s Pretend This Never Happened.
This weather. Yeah, I’m going to talk about the weather, and you’re going to listen. It’s effing amazing here. Usually by May we Texans are already in full summer heat complaint mode, but we’ve had a cooler spring than usual, so our days for now are filled with nice breezes and maybe 1/2 the usual amount of mosquitoes on steroids.
Rachel’s love for bagels. It deserves its own sonnet it’s so strong, this love for circular baked carbs and hearty cream cheese. Most kids want to go to the candy store? Rachel asks to go to the bagel store.
Claire’s boyfriend. Claire and a little boy in her class have become, ahem, friends. She gets all giddy when she talks about him, lowering her eyelids and giggling, and saying, “He reeeeeally likes me.” His mom says that he loves to make Claire laugh. Look out, Christian.
Birds. I’m starting a slow obsession with anything bird. It started with this piece I bought, and now anything birds I must have. Like I want people to come into my house and say “Holy sh*t this lady has a thing for birds.”
Not so much the ones that blare outside my bedroom window at 6:45 in the morning. Those can die.
What are you totally over or loving? Or maybe even OVERLOVING?
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