Monday Again....and Again...and Again

You guys want to know what the very worst thing about being poor is? I mean, beyond the obvious like not having enough to pay all the bill, buy new shoes for the kids, etc... No. Here is the worst thing. There is this painting by Anna over at Borderline Bonkers that I love. And it is for sale. And it isn't even expensive, because it is an original and it is stunning. But I can't buy it. She offered it to me because I was the first person to comment on how much I loved it and WANTED it, so a resounding Thank You! to her for the offer. I am so sad that I can't, though, and I want to piss and moan about this picture and the fact that Iwant it but can't have it as being the worst thing about being poor-you don't get to buy the things that you want. ***sniff*** Where is the goddamn lottery when you need it? Okay, okay, I will suck it up and stop now.

I want to send a big thank you out to Jim over at BusyDad; when I got to work this morning I had some correspondence from him that fit just what I needed at that moment. So thanks, Jim, for the words of encouragement. It meant a lot to me. 'Nuff said.

And I wanted to go into this rant about Mother's Day and all of that crap, but I won't, because it really just doesn't matter. For the first time in 15 years of being a Mother, I got gifts from my kids that were NOT HANDMADE AT SCHOOL, because Hannah is old enough now to take some initiative. And took her babysitting money to get me some things, and I came home from an overnight deal to a clean house and yard. So, it helped, a lot. I took a nap. Cried most of the afternoon, but was also productive by weeding out the flower bed and talking on the phone and smoking while I was crying. And then we went to a dinner thing at Steve's mom's house. I felt marginally better that HE didn't even acknowledge it becuase he pissed and moaned about having to sign the car I got for his mother. HIS mother.

I know it is strange that I write about Steve, and we obviously do things together still, yet still consider myself single; if you want to know, I will tell all. Or not. But yeah, it is strange, I will be the first to admit it.

Rambling a little today, but I had to go home early and spend most of the day at home with a sick kid, and by some strange turn of events, found out that the dog had her puppies. Talk about odd. See, I had to go to work early since I had to go home early to be with The Boy, so we were all in a hurry this morning and din't go out to check on the dog. I came home and gave The Boy his drugs (so I could nap), then heard the dog out barking like mad. Since she usually reserves her barking for around 11 p.m. I thought I should look to see what the hell was going on. Peered out the window and she had gotten herself all tangled up in her tie out, but was sort on lunging toward this hole and barking, barking, barking. I thought maybe a snake had gotten under her house or seomthing, so went out with a shovel (because, you know, I am handy like that) to find: four puppies in the hole. Apparently she had been just tangled enough that she couldn't make it into her house to have them, so made an existing dip in the groun bigger and popped them out. However, at some later point, she got herself even MORE tangled up and couldn't get back to them. Isn't it strange how that worked out? Because if The Boy hadn't gotten sick, I wouldn't have been home, and it got hot today; puppies would not have made it out in the sun with no shade and no mama.

The dog actually licked me in happiness, which is a first. And then promptly went into her house and plopped out two more. Six. Puppies. Fuck.

And that was my Monday. Let's hope that tomorrow is more normal, okay? Considering I am on the edge and all...