Things have cooled off with Gabe, thank goodness. He isn't as affectionate and adoring as he once was, but he doesn't verbally and physically hate on me daily, either. I'll take it.

The Thanksgiving break is coming to a close, and it was LONG. The kids all started it off with the puke bug, which totally sucked, but we were fine on Thanksgiving. I am SO grateful for that. It is my favorite holiday, and it is all about food and being around family, both of which would have been squelched if someone were still puking. They were fine the rest of the week, so they got to enjoy playing with their cousins, watching movies, and going to a big fancy park. It seriously feels like 2 weeks since they were last in school.

I am feeling up and down these days. The end of the year is so stressful, and I start getting anxiety issues. Lucky for me, I was reminded what a miracle it is that I have not been taking any mood stabilizing meds for 6 months and I am a normal functioning human being. Huge, peeps. Really huge.

I guess I need to start thinking about getting the Christmas stuff out. The kids keep talking about our tiny pink Christmas tree - it is hilarious that they love it so much. I doubt I'll put out much else by way of decoration, but we'll see.

Claire just asked for grits for dinner. My little belle. She is the only one of my kids with a Texan accent, too. I get a kick out of hearing her talk.

This post is just to clear the blog from the last one since I don't want all that malcontent just hanging out there against Gabe forever. I'm not feeling real bloggy, but I'm doing fine.

Dude, I am DONE.

Gabe just walked up to me, beaming, and punched me full-on in the crotch. What. The. Hell? I'm so freaking SICK of this kid it is ridiculous. I am angry! Really really angry. Who does he think he is? Holy friggin' crap, I am so on the verge of cussing him out.

This comes after he snuggled up to me on the couch this morning and says, "It's just, I don't like you." Okay! I get it! I suck! You don't like me! But you don't have to freaking HIT me, you little creep! Get outta my face.

You people better start praying for me, because I am reaching a breaking point. I'm going to go in the kitchen, make something that those kids BETTER not complain about, fake it through family home evening, and then I'm going to veg in front of the tv. Oh wait, I have to run.

I totally signed up for a 5k on New Year's Day, and I don't run. At all. So, I gotta run around for the next several weeks. But I'm vegging first. My crotch has to recover before I can run. His arms may look like spaghetti noodles, but they are bony, and that friggin' hurt.

Gabe voted me off the island

Gabe: "No moms or mommies allowed in our house, alright? Just kids and dads. Sorry, you out, Mom."


What? You little... What did I do?


Claire: "Mommies can be in our house, Gabey."


Thanks, girl. My only ally.


Gabe: "Nuh uh. They are mean to me. They can't come in."


Seriously? I'm mean to you? I'd like to suggest that it is you who is mean to me, kid. (As I'm typing this I hear him say in a whiney voice, "Awww, Char, you not awesome!" She wasn't letting him take a marker out of her hand.) Anyway, back to me. He is apparently taking it rather hard that he had a timeout for cutting his shirt with scissors. I really don't think that was an unreasonable disciplinary response, but, hey, I'm just the mom, and moms are out.


Thank goodness I'm going out with grownup girls tonight who appreciate me. Or at least the stuffed mushrooms I'll be bringing. Because I am a couple inches away from drop kicking him across the concrete floors, up the stairs, and into his big old bed for the night. And I don't care that he slept from 1:30 to 5:00 this afternoon.


Let's sign off with a picture to remind us all why we don't kick him out on a daily basis: