I am thisclose to being done with Mochahost forever. There have been so many people who have come to my aid to try to help with this mess of a situation. We are steps away now, people. Like, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I can see it! All I need is for Mochahost to give me one little tiny authorization code and then BAM, I’m moved over to a shiny new host and then, OH! and then, Miss Becca is working on an amazing new blog theme for me. You guys, it’s going to be GOOD. I mean, I love the way my site looks right now…but we are going to make it better! Easier to navigate! Prettier! Less cluttered! It’s going to be amazing.
I need to pour all my energy into being super pumped about this new site design, because I don’t want to focus on the fact that I just found out that my dad is having surgery TODAY and no one managed to tell me about it and I found out from my sister who found out from Facebook. Now, I’ll be the first to admit that I am a ridiculous shitty phone call-er. I am not allowed to make long distance calls from my cell, which, unfortunately, is when I want to make the calls. You know, when I have time, like whist sitting in the carpool line at school. But then I get home and I deal with after-school snacks and breaking up fights and then homework, dinner, baths, bedtime. By the time this is done, there’s not a chance that I want to talk to anyone. So, all of this is to say that I am horrible at calling my parents. I do take partial blame here. But my mom calls me. A lot. And I appreciate this. She knows that it’s not that I don’t want to talk to her, it’s just that I have three kids and a loooooooooot going on right now and things come up and then it just gets too late by the time I actually sit down for the first time in a day. But my dad doesn’t call. And my stepmom doesn’t call. And it makes me sad, on a fairly regular basis. But it makes me even sadder that they just don’t know what’s going on with us, and when I just don’t know what’s going on with them, especially when it comes to something important. When I have to find out that they are going to Disney World from Facebook. When I have to find out about SURGERY from Facebook.
My family is weird.
I need to pour all my energy into being super pumped about this new site design, because I don’t want to focus on the vomity child who is sitting on the couch beside me. I knew when I heard the coughing in the wee hours of the morning that someone was barfing. I JUST KNEW. You see, my husband travels for work pretty rarely. But – without fail – someone barfs while he’s gone. Don’t believe me, check out 2008. Or check out 2004. We had successfully stayed vomit-free for four whole days and I made the colossal error of simply getting too cocky. Announcing to the world that I can do this! I am the world’s best single parent! And yet. After I cleaned up the first round, I called Vegas at 4am. Then after round 2, I called Vegas at 5am. Then I called again at 6am. I realize that while my husband is on the other side of the Americas right now, he is really the only one who can help me. Because people are so nice. They offer to help. They say “What can I do?” but the problem is that I have a PSYCHOLOGICAL DISORDER. There’s nothing you can do to help me, unless you have a XANAX FOUNTAIN in your backyard, and anti-emetics to distribute. There’s nothing you can do to help me, unless you want to comfort a sick child.
So now I will partake in a little online retail therapy.
Perhaps I need this dress.
And I will worry about my dad. And my daughter. And myself.
Yes. I definitely need that dress.
And probably some shoes too.