Snap out of it!

I need some serious Cher bitch-slapping today. My "baby" is 8 and I have been working on not crying hysterically since 6am. I should be ecstatic that I have a healthy, happy, smart, amazing child and I AM but... he is 8!!!!!!!!!!!!! I was supposed to have more than one so I could keep that whole baby thing going. Life screwed me on that plan. I will be honest, I hear my neighbor's (4th) baby crying when I let the chickens out each morning and I feel a wee bit stabby. It's probably a good thing I am seeing my shrink today.

Side note: I am also self-medicating with Cheetos. They are not the same as having more than one child. But I think the Torula Yeast is a close second.

I played the 20th anniversary CD of Dirty Dancing on my way to work and that didn't help either. I plan to take my "baby" to Red Robin for dinner tonight but will I be able to taste anything but tears???

Side note: Red Robin isn't that great so maybe the tears will help. I am a foodie raising a tasteless EIGHT YEAR OLD. *deep breath*

My mom always told me not to be in a hurry to grow up. I totally didn't listen (sorry, mom) but she was right (yay for mom, lol). The problem is that I can see his future unfolding. I remember 10, 15, 16, etc... I'm pretty sure he is going to leave me at some point even though I try to cripple his independence daily.

Side note. If you love it, set it free is total bullshit.

I'm not sure I can go on. "Blank Space" on endless replay is doing nothing for me. What do you do when Taylor Swift and Dirty Dancing don't help????????? It's the freaking Apocalypse at this point. Happy Friday, peeps. 8 years ago today I was close to having a gorgeous little boy named Blake (born 5:45pm). Today, I am just a mom feeling old and working on my Baby Squishinator (get caught up on your Phineas and Ferb).

Love you, "baby"! You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, even if you are aging way too rapidly!

Shingle bells, shingles bells, shingles all the way!

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: Do NOT get shingles.

Sure wish someone had given me that announcement before I received the lovely gift of shingles for Christmas... I know this blog isn't widely popular (yet) but why didn't one person who loves me add a "PS - Don't get shingles" to their Christmas card?? I would have listened to this sage advice. Instead I woke up with a weird rash the day after Christmas and started throwing some Benadryl at it. Took some photos and sent them to various friends for their advice (which I'm sure they loved me for). At first, shingles was ruled out due to lack of pain. Silly me. Little did I know that the pain was on its way. Merrily meandering towards me so I could ring in the New Year with pain pills (not actually the worst NYE plan that one could have now that I think about it).

SHINGLES SUCK. When the pain finally arrived, it came with force. Keeping me up at night kind of force. Making me realize that I needed to go to the doctor finally. "Yep, that's shingles and they are extremely painful and Motrin won't help at all." Thank you, Dr. Obvious. So, I was prescribed an antiviral and some Norco. And just to make sure that I suffered some more, the antiviral meds bottle told me to take all 4 pills for the day at once. So, I went home and downed 3,200 mg of Acyclovir. And then promptly threw up and lay, writhing with nausea, for the remainder of the day.

The next day, I eyed the Acyclovir warily and decided to employ my pharmacist connections (thanks, Mom!). Um, you are supposed to take one pill, four times daily, with milk or a snack. In other words, I had OD'd on antiviral meds the day before.

Side note: I bet you all thought if I OD'd on anything, it would have been the pain pills. Shame on you for thinking badly of me. This gal knows how to handle her narcotics, thank you very much!

Anywho, I am now done with the antiviral meds (and, sadly, the pain pills) yet the pain and rash are still there. They were not kidding when they said this shit takes forever to go away. I got the gift that keeps on giving for Christmas this year. Santa is a real asshole. It was terrible to have to put on a bra and real clothes to come to work last week. And it hasn't been any better this week. I would apply for a job at a nudist colony but I am hoping by the time that I would get hired that these damn shingles will be gone. Plus, no one wants to see this hot mess bod that I am rocking.

So, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! I slacked on the blog over my break but promise to be back to posting at least once weekly.

I am attaching some pics of my Christmas present. Look at your own risk, people! (And that's the area around my armpit in case you are curious.)