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Spring Break 2026

I went to pick my daughter up from school on Friday. (Let me just tell you, she is an angel at school and for sitters. The minute I walk-in the door, she proceeds to have a newkyoulahr meltdown. Her teachers all look at me like Oh, dear and I feel like a complete heel. Of course, I would rather have her on her very best behavior at school and save the Linda Blair antics for the home. Right? I mean, that is better, yes?) When I came around the corner, Mr. Daniel came over to me with a look of absolute astonishment on his face:

Um...we had to put her down for her nap a half-hour early. She um...didn't eat her lunch. She was...um...crying...a lot. She...was a mess. I've...never seen her like this. It was...bad.

I could tell he got a taste of Hellcat (as I lovingly refer to her). And he was beside himself. Poor guy. (I feel sooooo sorry for him. *insert eye roll*)

She seemed fine until 8.30 p.m. when she developed a fever. Of course, then there was a party because she got to take "the purple medicine" which she asks for even when she feels fine, because it "tastes good." Fever showed up again on Saturday around 2.30 p.m. Felt fine until Sunday at 4.15 p.m. when she quit eating her chips and salsa (she MUST be sick) because she couldn't swallow. Great.

I called The Little Clinic at the Kroger which is about 15 minutes away. They would stop taking patients at 4.30 p.m. or 4.45 p.m. I haul ass to get there and arrive at 4.52 p.m. They still took her, thank goodness. She had an ear infection and maybe strep throat, but the ten days of amoxicillin would knock them both out. The Kroger pharmacy was closed, so he had to call her prescription in to Walgreen's which closed at 6 p.m. Driving way too fast, but still just over the speed limit, I made it to the drive-thru just in the nick of time, dear sweet child sleeping the whole way.

She is on the mend. And since we are on the subject of medicine and the taste of it, ALL medicines should taste like amoxicillin. It was white this time, instead of the pink we're used to getting. Daughter claims it tastes like vanilla, but that could be because of the color. Either way, it has taught me one thing: she will be able to bong a beer on the beach in college faster than any frat boy from here to Albuquerque.

Within an Inch of My Life

Last week, I forgot to roll up the back window on my Jeep. My daughter was sleeping and I got her out of her car seat and carried her in the house. (She never stays asleep. She immediately wakes up and I immediately cry.) Of course, it ended up storming all night long. The next morning I found the seat next to my daughter's car seat soaking wet. My car already has some weird leaky water issues. I was just imagining the huge mold rave that was raging all day and night in my car.

Today, my daughter and I ran into Target near her school for approximately 15 minutes. By the time we came outside, it was lightly raining but picking up speed. Well, that must have been the second go of it. This time, both of my front windows were down. My driver's seat was drenched. I tossed my daughter into the car in the back seat and ran around to the trunk to look for a towel or something. It was locked. As rain was pouring down my back and soaking my dress, I jumped in the back just as my sweet child said, "We are having a bad day, [are] we?"

Today was the one time I was grateful that my trunk area is full of all kinds of ridiculous crap. I reached over and grabbed a blanket that I use on picnics. The blanket is waterproof on one side and plaid something (Wool? Human hair?) on the other side. I jumped back out of the car just in time for what felt like bucket of water to overturn on my head. I covered my seat with the blanket, jumped in, messed up said blanket reaching over to roll-up the passenger window, situated blanket, sat back down and wanted to take a nap. Let me just tell you how absofreakinglutely hot I was. I think I heard someone say it was 105 (with the heat index) degrees today. And when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror I nearly jumped. I looked like I'd been beaten by wet sponges. But did that stop me from going to the grocery? No. Did I run into mass people I know? Certainly. Did my daughter say, "Mom. You need a shower"? You betcha. This is how I know I'm a grown-up. I just don't. care. any. more.

Go the F**k to Sleep

I have a dear friend who is expecting her first child. For some reason, beyond my conscious decision-making abilities, I find it completely necessary to scare the ever-loving shit out of her when it comes to all things "baby." I find myself unable to spare her horror stories about things she won't even have to worry about for the next four years, when that little girl-to-be is walking and talking and bitching up a storm. Tonight, I informed her that her dear daughter will one day be sick, and even though your heart is breaking for her that little girl will get on your last damned nerve. It is one of the conundrums of motherhood. You so desperately want to do everything in your power to make them better, and you want it to happen immediately. "Yes, dear. I am very sorry you're sick. What can mommy do to make it better so she can get some freaking sleep? I mean, so you can get some good sleep? That's what I said. Yes, it is. No, you don't need more water. You just went to the bathroom. I know your ear hurts, that's why you should close your eyes and go nigh-nigh time. No. A Peppermint Pattie will not help your ear feel better. No, you can't sleep with mommy. Because you're miserable to sleep with. Yes, you are. Yes. Yes. You are. Yes, you are. I know that hurts your feelings. It hurts mommy's feelings when you karate chop her neck with your leg in the middle of the night. I know it was an askident. It's okay. I mean, it's okay that it's an accident. Go to sleep. Yes. Now. I mean it. Fine. But I'd better hear pee coming out."