Well, that last post sounded kinda fatalistic, didn’t it?  And why did I make up a word like fatalistic?  Or did I? 

In reality, things are not so bad.  I mean, they are for my mom, who is STILL down for the count with this stupid stomach bug that she contracted before any of us (except Binja, who believes in sharing his ailments with all who so much as share contained air with him).  And they are for The Boy, who also contracted said bug yesterday, making the last day of our weekend a lot of EWWW. (Sidenote: that child is my fucking hero.  He threw up like a champ.  When I was his age, I would cry and sob and flail and be just prostrate with grief.  He just leaned out of the car and let it fly.) Apparently, The Boy’s virus is so bad that BioMom is taking him to the ER today.  Mom will be following shortly, I’m sure.

So anyway, I’m so tired of this damn stomach bug.  Which I feel stupid saying, because I’ve just had a mild case of the runs for a week now.  But I’m still tired of people having to suffer from it.  I’m tired of hearing about it (because there’s nothing I can do, not because I’m a selfish asshole who gets tired of whining.. sorta).  But really, and here’s the part where I AM a selfish asshole.. I’m tired of this stomach virus because I don’t have it as bad as everyone else, so I’m playing the strong one.

ANYWAY v2.0, I interviewed for a job today.  I am absolutely amazing at dazzling people with words that leave my mouth, but I’ll be damned if there’s a speck of content in there.  I know the jargon, I smile a lot, and I make it sound effortless.  But really, I always feel like I’m playing a part in those things.  We’ll see if I passed through the auditions and make callbacks on this one.  It’s on a shiny new program (OOH!  SHINY!), which would be cool as hell to work on, but part of me wonders if I can take on such an awesome responsibility with a new baby and moving into a new house (hypothetically.. the house, not the baby).

Oh, and then there’s this:
 

Can I tell you how much I love being a mom to boys?  I do.  No, seriously.  On Saturday, I took The Boy for a walk to the corner store, and we took our time.  We stopped to examine flowers, throw helicopters (or whirlygigs, depending on where you grew up), decorate my hair with vibrant foliage.. it was awesome.  Little boys are just so fantabulous.

I hate to say we may have house news, because I’ve said that how many times now?, and it’s always negative news that I deliver.  But.. having said all of that.. we may have house news.  PLEASE, GOD, PLEASE, LET US HAVE GOOD HOUSE NEWS.

I ran into someone I’ve known FOR YEARS at Star Market (but it’s been so long since I’ve seen him that he was all, “So you’re married now, eh?”), and he said he had a major heart attack last summer and was in a coma for nine days.  HOLY SHIT.  That happens to people I know? 

Let me tell you how much I love picking my child up at daycare.  It’s the coolest thing in the world to end your workday with your child snuggling into your neck and cooing because he’s ecstatic to see you. 

.. so things aren’t that bad.  They’re actually quite good.