I feel like that stretchy mom in the Incredibles...

I'm old, I'll admit it.  My ovaries are starting to shrivel, I'm getting grey hair, my boobs aren't where they used to be and my knees hurt with the weather.  I feel like an old antiquated relic left behind from some bygone era. 

Here's the deal, I'm trying to make a button and do the Twitter thing.  And I've never cussed so much in my entire life.  Well, aside from when the bird sacrificed itself on my windshield, when I almost forgot Alex in the car, when I dropped the shelf on my foot.  Shit, I have cussed this much before.

But that's not the point.

I can't figure it out.

And I'm all pissy, pissed off.

Sure, I could ask Alex, but that would defeat the point of my trying to do it on my own.  See, I want everything to be all matchy-matchy (yes my pillows coordinate with my armchairs and draperies) and perfect before I put it out there and it's not working. 

The picture size is too big and the image won't upload.  I can't find the right background and my sea star isn't the way I like it.   And now have to add that bird thing to my sidebar.  And I have no fucking idea what even goes on at Twitter.  It scares me.

What happens if I do go on Twitter and I only have like 9 friends and I'm following 15,904 people???  I'll feel like a total loser, thank you Brian for the heads up, not the loser part!  I mean, I'll be more of a loser than I already am.  I can't handle that right now.

I'm over committed.

I still have three very young kids to raise, a house to clean and three different meals to make, three times a day, every day.  All the therapies to run to, Speech homework and regular homework for the oldest two.  And now I'm meeting with insurance adjustors, roofers, gutter, deck and painter people.  I totally forgot Easter was this Sunday and now I have to get lamb cakes made, go to the cesspool WalMart to get candy, and do all the baskets and plastic egg stuff.


See, these things are a pain in the ass to make.

So here's what I propose to do:

1. Do blog posting on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.  Anything else is a special gift from me to you. 
2. Run around and visit all my bloggy friends when I can because seriously, I love you guys.
3. Do the Twitter thing, but you have to help me and not make fun of me.  Promise???
4. Try and make a Godammed Button.
5. Stop cussing. 
6. Erase number five.  Well, at least until one through four are completed. 

Deal???


I hope everyone has a decent Easter.  One with no meltdowns.  One with rainbows and kittens and cotton candy.  With lots of ham, deviled eggs and lamb cake.  And a different meal for the kid who won't touch the ham.  A different one for the kid who doesn't want their food groups touching each other.  And one for the kid who only wants to eat Oscar Meyer turkey hot dogs, 98% fat free, and only cooked on the stove boiled in hot water for exactly 7 minutes with the red stuff on the side, never on the bun.

 And three different lamb cakes.  Can't forget the blessed little lambs.  I need a chocolate lamb, a white lamb and Goddammed tradition states the white lamb has to have coconut and Heaven forbid we have a chocolate coconut lamb or white coconut lamb because the kids don't like coconut.  Tradition states the fucking lamb has to have a coat so I have to make a white coconut lamb, so yay me, I get to make another frigging lamb.  By Sunday morning I'll have a whole flock of little lambs just staring at me as I go around the kitchen, waiting for the kids to chop off their pretty little heads and eat their asses.

Wait, that's my Easter!  Have a good one everybody!!!