The second thing distracting me? I seem to be working on a clogged duct in my right boob. My boob hurts beyond any pain I’ve experienced since the first weeks of nursing. My boob is also very hot. I keep going around saying, “My boob has a fever! My boob has a fever!” because evidently when election fever and boob fever are combined? Boob fever wins.

I’m going to spend some time elsewhere tonight – probably twitter – so I can discuss my anxiety with other Obama people.

In the meantime, can I please share with you a video that speaks to my soul. It stirs up amazing emotion in me and it embodies everything that has inspired me this election season. This video speaks of the hope Obama has stirred in me and I just felt I needed to share.

I think what I’m running into is that I’m typically a “planner” and I plan ahead for everything that I see down the road. I over-plan probably. I take the fun out of life and spontaneity sometimes. So, I’m not sure how to step into this new situation on Monday since I didn’t really plan for it. Which, I’m realizing, is my own damn fault. I went last night to look for organizational things…notepads and calendars…thinking that if I could just organize the chaos, it would start to assemble into a plan. Of course I would deal with an anxiety attack by going to Staples. At least I’m sticking true to form.

But I’m frazzled. I have a list of Shit That Needs To Get Done Right Now. NOW. NOW. NOW. But, I’m so scatterbrained today that I can’t seem to make any progress on The List. So, I blog. My blogiversary is in a few days and there’s one thing I’ve come to depend on the most in the last four years: Talking It Out In Cyberspace. So, even though I haven’t said much of anything, I thank you for listening. I’m actually excited about a lot of things on my List of Things To Do and I hope to share that with you soon, after I color-code it and highlight it and file it away in a cute file box.

So – I’m sitting back and having my favorite beer (since SxSW) – Shiner Bock. NikkiZ is asleep and I’m watching Take Home Chef, which happens to be my new favorite show. (Dude. Curtis is SO hott.) I’m waiting for my husband and Stace to come over so we can go hear my favorite bluegrass band: Rollin’ in the Hay. It’s going to be a fitting end to a really shitty week. I’ve received several words of wisdom and sympathy this week, but I believe the best was from my husband. He said, “I love you, babe. No matter what.”

And that’s that. We move on. I’ve cried plenty. I’ve drank plenty. I’ve hugged plenty. After tonight? I’ll have danced plenty – because even after the loss, I have plenty to celebrate. Beautiful kids. Beautiful friends. And the best thing of all: a beautiful hubby who holds my hand when I cramp and rubs my head when I cry.

And hopefully this weekend, HE’LL GIVE ME MY DAMN KITCHEN BACK.

I was livid. NikkiZ’s hair was stuck to her face with snot and drool. She couldn’t breathe she was crying so hard. And what did this woman, who I didn’t even know, say to me? “She’s been fussy since, like 4pm.”

I stormed out of the room so as to avoid either (a) crying at the sudden stabbing pangs of guilt at seeing my daughter in that condition and (b) punching the woman in the face.

I asked the front desk why they were over ratio to which she said that, “When they are understaffed, that happens but they always fall within the state guidelines.” Well, this daycare is simply another branch of our old one, so I had to ask, “The other place never got that understaffed. If there was an emergency? The director was making up the difference by being in the classroom herself. Why is it different here?” She didn’t know the answer. She isn’t any sort of official person in the facility, so I wasn’t going to lose it on her, even though I wanted to as I pulled hairs off my daughters crusty face as she held me fiercely, terrified I was going to let her go.

Here’s the thing: I loved the other branch of this daycare. LOVED it. We knew everyone on a first-name basis, and we felt like they were our friends – teachers and administration alike. The only downside was that it was out of my way to get to my new job and the drive had NikkiZ in the car 20+ minutes longer per trip. And – if you’ll recall – she HATED the car. So – we felt like it was the best interest to everyone to move her to the branch closer to us.

Since that move – one month ago – I have never felt good about the decision. I go from feeling okay to feeling really horrible. The majority of times I’ve gone to pick her up – she has been screaming on the floor somewhere. I have never seen one teacher singing a song or reading a book to any of the babies. She came home with a bruised and scabby bite mark on her arm one day that no one knew about. Now – I know they can’t watch the kids every second – but none of the teachers even “remembered her crying.” Which – it was bruised and there was broken skin – I’m fairly certain she cried.

And don’t get me started on the different setup they have that puts NikkiZ back with the babies, more or less. Or the times that they’ve opened late this week and no one even apologized. (At the other place we got a note with a hand-written apology when they were late.)

So, I pulled out of the parking lot and called the old place. The old director was not there, which is probably a good thing because I might have started crying over the phone immediately when she answered. The assistant director was, and I very emotionally begged for them to let me bring NikkiZ back as soon as Tuesday. She, of course, was very compensating and tried to be consoling when I tearfully said, “I don’t want to ever find my daughter in the condition I found her in today.”

They’ll get the paperwork done today, and she’ll be good to go next week. Who knows how she’ll handle the long drive again – but hopefully there will be a part of her that will understand.

Now – all of that and I’m sure you’re thinking, “Why did it take you so long?” And it’s because MrZ has not had any of the bad impressions I’ve had of the place. He says that when he’s gone to get her, she’s been fine. Happy, playing, content. He also blames her current level of emotional distress on her molars coming in – not necessarily on being “unhappy” at her daycare. He also points out that two of the four weeks she has been at this place, she’s had a cold and has therefore been miserable as well. I’ve been saying that her bad mood has been because she hates the daycare, he’s not been quite so harsh. So – it’s been hard for me to justify the move.

Even last night, when I really felt like I was doing it for logical reasons, MrZ still had a little bit of hesitation. So, I felt like I had to spend the next 3 hours justifying my decisions. I kept saying things like, “She was crying so hard she couldn’t breathe!” and “What about the time she came home with poop on her butt?” Even though MrZ didn’t say he disagreed, I didn’t feel like he agreed as whole-heartedly as I did, so I took an argumentative stance. I know that I sometimes react with emotions first and logic second, so I followed him around all night trying to give him evidence to the contrary. He’s supportive of the decision, of course, but I think he thinks it’s unnecessary.

Even this morning, I still feel like I need to continue justifying my actions. I guess it’s just that I feel I did the right thing, but I really want him to feel that as strongly. I think it doesn’t help that there is still that voice in the back of my head saying, “If you weren’t a working mom, you wouldn’t have this problem.”

I just don’t know. This makes for a crappy entry – that much I do know. I guess there are some times where you just want to rant for the sake of ranting. I keep seeing her on the floor, alone, crying so hard she couldn’t breathe. Her face red as the sweater she was wearing. Snot and drool crusty on her face, matting her hair to her skin. And I keep feeling that embrace as I picked her up. The one that said, “Thank God you are here, Mom. Please don’t let me go.” And I keep seeing her arch her back and resist being put in her car seat – something she’s never done – because I don’t believe she was ready to leave the comfort of my arms. All of those feelings are still too fresh in my heart – so much so that even taking her back for just one day, for just today, has me feeling more guilt than the first day I dropped her off after maternity leave.

So, yeah. Sometimes blogging is just about putting your thoughts on paper to help yourself feel better about decisions you have to make. And maybe I’m counting on someone to say, “It sounds like you made the right choice.”

(Kidding.)

And then…guess who’s school called yesterday to say she was running a fever? Come on…guess! NikkiZ’s! It was too late for us to get her an appointment at her doctor, so she has one this morning. Awesome.

So, MrZ is going to take her to the appointment in the morning to find out what disease she has (I’m betting on West Nile) and then, depending on what they say, I’ll come home with her – or she’ll go back to school. I’m betting “no” on the school though, since they don’t like kids to come back until their fever has been gone for 24 hours. How bad is it that I want to ask, “Is that 24 hours from when it broke or from when you last saw them with a fever?”

It’s times like this, when both kids are sick but I’m up getting ready for work and trying to do laundry, that I wonder if it’s fair to have more kids. I mean, I want 50 if my body would allow it, but can I give them the attention they truly need/deserve? (That’s a rhetorical question, by the way, if you’re thinking about saying, “Don’t have more kids if you can’t stay home with them!” please keep that to yourself.) If I can’t care for them when they’re sick, then what kind of mother could I be?

Luckily my uterus hates me, so it’s not a hugely pressing issue at the moment.

So, my point? Two sick kids. I’m finally over my crud (I never even ran a fever – I had Ebola-light) and MrZ hasn’t gotten it (yet) – so let’s hope all of this crap passes by Christmas. If not? Someone is getting the pink slip. Either Santa or God…I’m not sure who yet.

I have yet to even get started on my family newsletter. I have to do it because every year my Dad’s sisters tell me how much they love it and I don’t want to lose my rep as World’s Funniest Christmas Newsletter Writer. I haven’t even started on the rest of my cards. Speaking of that – do you want a card? Email me your address to misszootATgmailDOTcom and I’ll send you one. If I sent you one last year you still may want to give me your address because I believe my dog at last year’s list. SERIOUSLY. We do have a dog that eats paper and I seem to recall the Christmas Address List 2005 showing up in a pile of poop some time around New Year’s.

Don’t expect the cards before February though, I’m just saying…

(And if you want to send ME a card? Find my address here.)

I also have done about ZERO of my Christmas shopping. The one person I was done with was my brother because I went to visit him last weekend and wanted to bring gifts. BUT – since I’ve come home I thought of a few more little things I want to mail him. I’M MAKING MY LIFE HARDER. MrZ? Well, I bought him (and me!) something totally awesome, but since it won’t be here until February, it doesn’t really count as a Christmas gift.

(And hell if I’m keeping the surprise that long. I told him five seconds after I bought it.)

I have bought a few things for LilZ: underwear, toothpaste, deodorant, and a Barney DVD he’s been begging me for. (Come on, he reads my blog, I have to pull his chain a bit.) But seriously? I was going to buy all of his crap this weekend because he’d be with his Dad. BUT – we ended up trading because hid Dad gets Christmas this year, so he’s getting next weekend. So, I either wait and do it the weekend before Christmas and end up being in the papers under the headline: “CRAZY WOMAN TAKES POTTERY BARN HOSTAGE” or I try to get it done this weekend. Which means I’ll be sacrificing time with him which I hate to do on my weekends.

(LilZ: Seriously, woman. I’m 11. I need my space. Go shopping. Bring me back dinner.)

My point? SO MUCH TO DO. Please tell me you are just as behind as I am. If you’re not? Please offer to do my shopping for me. Or mail my cards? Or rub my feet? (What? That needs to be done too.).

But seriously? The 9-year old girl inside of me is all, “OHMYGOD! 10 Days until Christmas! Yippee!” – so screw the 31-year old version of myself. She’s never caught up on anything. I’m totally going to enjoy the next 10 days, even if I do spend it stuck in the mall with crazy soccer moms.

I know you have important things to worry about right now. Like your final exams of your last semester of college. And maybe that huge project you’ve been working on. Or your job. Or your two kids. I know you have stuff going on…BUT YOU MUST DROP IT ALL! Did you hear me? GIRL. CORSAGE. DANCE. DATE.”

BEEEEEEP

????

Hi, you’ve reached Stacey…I can’t get to my phone so leave me a message….BEEP…
“OHMYGOD. Your voicemail totally just cut me off. What if you didn’t get my message? What if you didnt hear the emergency. Here it is: MY SON IS GOING TO A DANCE WITH A GIRL TONIGHT. That is the emergency. You must drop whatever you are doing and call me back because I think I’m going to ground him and I can’t think of a good reason. Should I buy some weed and plant it in his room and then be all LilZ! There’s weed in your room! You’re grounded! Should I? Or maybe ‘accidentally’ lock him in his room and then ‘lose’ the key? I MUST STOP HIM.”

BEEEEEP

!!!!!!

Hi, you’ve reached Stacey…I can’t get to my phone so leave me a message….BEEP…
“OH MY GOD. Your cell phone keeps hanging up on me! Okay. Here’s the quick version in case you missed my last two messages: LilZ has a date tonight with a girl and I want to stop it from happening. Forever. Is it too late for an all-boy boarding school? Do you know of one open right now that I could ship him too? CALL ME.”

I was about in tears last night whining to MrZ about how tired I was. I think I went on some tirade about how exhausting my life is and how MrZ doesn’t appreciate me and the things I do and, “I’m just so tired.” Luckily, MrZ has learned when I get in those moods that the best thing is not to try to defend himself, but instead to just nod his head and wait for me to pass out. Which I did, about 30 seconds later. SO TIRED.

Of course, MrZ had been helping his brother move into his house all day. So, I’m lucky he didn’t opt for the, “Whatever, woman. Try moving furniture all day then we’ll talk exhausting” response. It’s funny the things you learn about marriage the longer you’re married. Like, Rule #458: Don’t try to use logic when the speaker is having an emotional breakdown.

So – back to the grindstone today. This is probably one of those days I could stand to drink coffee non-stop all day long. And possibly whiskey.

(P.S. – for those of you who missed the announcement, I changed blogging platforms so you’ll need to re-add me to you feedreaders like Bloglines. Sorry!)

I figured this out because I tried setting up WordPress on my TV Addict site. Turns out? There are a different set of issues there. After investigating I’ve discovered it’s the fault of my host and some upgrade/maintenance/annoying behavior that has thrown things for a loop in the database arena.

Let’s just say that none of this makes my anxiety level drop. At least if it’s a problem I cause, I can try to fix it. When it’s caused by them, I’m at their mercy – and what if they don’t fix it? Then what? I’ll cry. That’s what.

So – comments still being moderated. Blood pressure rising and headache ensuing. Good times.

Thirteen Things That Are Making Me A Wee Bit Anxious Lately

1. There are stressful “issues” at work that I wish I could talk about but (a) It would bore you to death and (b) It would bore me to death.
2. NikkiZ is refusing to eat cereal, the ONE thing during the last month we could always guarantee she would eat, even when she was sick. Since she hates fruit, I’m going to have to give her teachers squash to feed her for breakfast. Yum. Squash for breakfast.
3. LilZ is suffering from an inability to remember anything I ask him to do. EVER. You know, like bring home the lunch box that he left at school a week ago. (My Dad likes to call this affliction, “Being Just Like His Mother.”)
4. There’s a constant war waging between Zoot – She Who Can Do Everything Without Asking for Help and Zoot – If She Doesn’t Get Some Help Around the House She May Kill Someone
5. I’m still trying to lose the last 5-8 lbs of pregnancy weight that I’ve been losing and gaining back bits and pieces of for about 2 months now. I’ll be like, “Yay! I’m almost there!” and then binge for the next week putting it all back on. I know my pre-pregnancy weight is just a random number and if I’m this close I should be happy. BUT – it’s the number that will make it OVER. I feel like until I reach that number on the scale, I’m still “carrying pregnancy weight” and I just want to be able to know I’m done with that. It will be a year in six weeks, I need to reach the goal by then.
6. I have my 5K on Saturday. Can you believe me, the queen of EXCERCISE IS EEEVIL, is running a 5K on Saturday. EEK.
7. So much TV. So little time.
8. One of my long time best friends may be moving to Las Vegas. This makes me very sad. She is only a short drive away right now, and where I may not take advantage of that as much as I should? It was nice knowing she was that close. Las Vegas is a wee more than a weekend drive away.
9. NikkiZ seems to have successfully transitioned to sleeping through the night. This fact is NOT stressing me out. However, she is doing it In. Her. Crib. I miss her in bed with us so bad. I sleep HORRIBLY now. I know that sounds moronic to those of you who don’t co-sleep, but if you co-sleep – you understand, right? I miss her.
10. There’s a certain baby’s birthday coming up soon and I guess I should, maybe, plan her a party? I guess?
11. My house. There are so many things I need to be doing in my house. Carrying up the stuff to the attic that I’ve been putting of for six months would be one thing. Let’s don’t discuss the closet on the floor or the books boxed up for the last year.
12. I still haven’t begun to read the Series of Unfortunate Events books and the last one comes out in a few weeks. I MUST READ THEM ALL BEFORE THEN. Why? Because I told myself I would. And Myself gets very angry when I don’t do things I tell her I’ll do.
13. I have an anniversary coming up. I have no ideas for presents and very little extra cash to spend on the ideas I don’t have. What is the 3rd anniversary? Traditional: Leather. Contemporary: Crystal/Glass. MrZ always gets me stuff that follows the guidelines but I can never think of anything good that does. So I always get him something lame. Like a book. Well, last year I gave him a baby, but you know – it’s usually a book.