Y’all,

I owe you a few words.

I left a shitstain on this blog a mile long when I published that last post.  I freaked people out, fearing I was about to stick my head in an oven or something, and that’s uncalled for.  I don’t like it when people do that, and I’m sorry that I did.

In reality, I’m just tired.  It’s the kind of tired that isn’t cured by sleeping.  It’s a kind of tired that is ALMOST first trimester pregnancy tired, but not as rewarding.  It’s a tired that saps everything inside, leaving me with little else except recognition of The Tired.  It sucks me of my humor, my joy, my hope.  It’s a fucking annoying Tired.

It’s a Single Parent Tired.  Again (and always!), I tip my hat to single parents, because DAYUM.

I had The Ugly Cry this weekend.  You know the one.  The Ugly Cry that forces you to look akin to Julia Roberts while having a diabetic episode in Steel Magnolias.

“Honey, it’ll be okay,” Bryan said.

“DON’T TALK ABOUT ME LIKE I’M NOT EVEN HERE!” I’d snap, wishing M’Lynn would give me some orange juice already.

This week is better, already.  I’ve got lunches with some of my favorite peeps scheduled.  I’ve got tons of work to keep me busy, and it’s the creative, lucrative kind of work that I enjoy. (Cleaning houses, while profitable, does not make my Favorite Things To Do For Fun list.) Aside from Beau bringing in a LIMB FROM A FREAKIN’ TREE and then SHREDDING IT LIKE A WOOD CHIPPER IN MY LIVING ROOM last night, the house is relatively clean.  I washed our sheets and deoderized our house.  In short, I offered to myself what others pay me to do.  And?  I did it for free, because I am my best pimp.

We had Jack this past weekend, which is both easier and harder, but there were moments that were pure joy.  When the stars align and the moon is in the seventh house, everyone’s in a good mood and there is squealing and laughter in every crevice of the house.  The other part of the time, there is a fight for dominance over the remote control and our attention.

The way to fend this off is by centering all family time in the gallery kitchen, where both boys were keenly aware that they were being immortalized on video and receiving our full attention.  It was like Christmas.

THIS WENT ON FOR HOURS.

And, admittedly, it’s pretty hard to hate your life when you can’t hear yourself kvetch for all the laughter and squealing of joy.

That, and a few Advil, will make you a pretty happy camper.

So, for those of you following along via Twitter or Facebook, you probably know that we had to lose a family member yesterday.

Friday has been with my husband for a long, long time and he tells the story better than I ever could, so I’ll just point you over there. (And be gentle.  Friday was very much a child to us.)(Hugs are appreciated.)

Due to circumstances, we haven’t yet told the boys.  Tony knows that Friday went to the doctor yesterday, and we’ll see Jack tomorrow.  Jack, being older, is at least at an age to comprehend the loss .. although Friday’s been around for all of his life, so it may be a tough grieving period.  Tony, though .. I don’t know how to tackle that.  Do we explain heaven?  Do we discuss death?

I don’t know.  All I can remember is that one of my BFFs in high school had an aunt die suddenly when he was a child, and the death was explained to him like a long sleep.  Like, Friday went to sleep and didn’t wake back up.  It sounds peaceful, right?  Yeah, EXCEPT THAT HE WAS SCARED TO FALL ASLEEP.  FOR YEARS.  So ..

Have you ever had to tackle death with a toddler?  What trials and tribulations did you come through with?

We’re fortunate so far that Tony hasn’t asked.  But when Jack is grieving, I think Tony will need to know why.

Also, we’re potty-training.  Which is not related at all, except that it also bears MUCH GRIEVING.

Wednesday was a rough day for me last week.  I cleaned a new house, which is always exhausting, ran home, showered, and got ready for the afternoon at the office.  I threw on something clean .. a Loft skirt that was white and full and not particularly amazing at all.

I picked up Tony in a hurry because .. well, as always, I had miles to go before I was done for the day.  Still had dinner to fix, and something is blooming in Huntsville that had my sinuses in a wreck.  I ran in, signed him out, and waved to him from the doorway of his classroom.

He came out, wide-eyed and pointing.  “Momma, wassdat?”

I was confused.  “What, this?  This is a skirt, honey.  C’mon, we’ve got to hurry..”

He sighed deeply and looked at me earnestly.  “Oh, Momma.  You a pwincess!”

I was dumbfounded.  “What?”

“A pwincess, Momma!  Is so pretty!”

I just stood there, and I knew I teared up and I looked at Miss Alice who was also astounded and I opened my mouth to exclaim how my baby is just so amazing and just a natural empath and how sweet was ..

“C’mon, Momma!  Less go!  We got to ROLL!”

And it was over.