I have no idea what I want to write about today and am pretty much only writing because I think I should. I find it ironic that when I get all dysphoric the last thing I want to do is write and it’s probably the time when I need to write the most.

If it didn’t make me so damn tired. When just the thought of something makes makes me want to take a nap, I tend to avoid said thing. Unless I’m really wanting a nap…

I’m not a very nice person when I’m like this.

My temper is short; don’t you DARE scrape you chair on the floor around me. And that fighting stuff the kids do? Very much uncool right now. Super uncool. It’s at this point when I wish the grandparents lived closer cause I would ship these guys off right about now. Not for forever. Just a couple of days. Just long enough for me to regain the patience of a saint.

I feel like I have something stuck in my throat. Not sure what that means and Dr. Google isn’t helping with a diagnosis but I know “Do you have the sensation you have something stuck in your throat?” is a question on the digital questionnaires I sometimes take at the shrink’s.

I can’t settle on a something to listen to on Spotify and that’s annoying the hell out of me.

I got this from Atlas today:

It should be interesting to play since I haven’t read the books OR seen the show. Distraction is always nice.

My goals for the day?

1. Take a shower.
2. Brush teeth.
3. Put on makeup.
4. Perfectly french braid Cara’s hair for gym.
5. Figure out where I put Ollie’s form for gym so he can start this summer.
6. Make dinner.
7. Get to sleep before midnight.

That’s a lot of shit! Me thinks I shouldn’t have made a list…

I’ll be fine; I always am. I’m not going to stop functioning or whatever. The kids will still get bathed and fed and hugged and hollered at. Basically life keeps going like it always does but I bitch more.

Tucker’s probably wondering how that’s any different from normal.

My response:

I’m sure this is the general reception to this post:

My response:

and

and

I’m probably going to feel bad about that last one in a few minutes cause it’s probably going to offend someone. Please refer to the first gif after “My response.”

Tucker showed me this last night and it’s the perfect follow-up to the Tucker’s Speedo and His Obsession with Sexy and I Know It post.

Maybe it’s just me but the cover’s better than the original.

While I’m at the Type-A conference this summer, Tucker and the kids will be at the beach with his family.

Tucker has threatened to wear this:

Because of this possibility, I'm *very* glad to be missing the beach trip.

Any of these adequately express my feelings.

I’m sure you’re asking: “But why, Amy?! Why would he embarrass himself and all of humanity and adorable kittens by wearing something like that in public?! Has he no shame?”

Simple answer is he’s obsessed with this:

Save. Me.

Anytime you read something where I say I’m NEVER GOING TO do something or where I say I’m GOING TO do something, just know I’m full of shit. Case in point? When I wrote that I was going to stop breaking up fights between Cara and Ollie.

Let me clarify.

It’s not that I necessarily mean to lie; I have good intentions. However, my follow-through kind of sucks.

All of that basically means this

which almost always turns into this

and I’m all like

then Ollie’s all like

and Cara’s all like

and I want to be like this

but I’m probably more like this

and then I

and then they

and this is how I feel at the end of it all

This has been my week.

I have to apologize to everyone on Facebook who is one of my friends. I’m sorry I’ve been playing The Civil Wars repeatedly on Spotify and that you have to see every time I replay so song. In my defense, it all started with an obsession with The Hunger Games soundtrack and then morphed into a The Civil Wars obsession. And I’ve forgotten how to turn off Facebook updates on Spotify.

Below are videos for my favorite songs off of The Hunger Games soundtrack and then a couple of extra The Civil Wars videos. You have no idea how hard it was for me to not include all of The Civil Wars’s music.

Dark Days – Punch Brothers

Tomorrow Will Be Kinder – The Secret Sisters

Safe & Sound – Taylor Swift

Kingdom Come – The Civil Wars

Come Away To The Water – Maroon 5, Rozzi Crane

Run Daddy Run – Miranda Lambert

Rules – Jayme Dee

Just A Game – Birdy

These have nothing The Hunger Games but I love them.

The Civil Wars – Falling

The Civil Wars – Barton Hollow

Image | SHAUN>D

Maybe we never completely stoppedwith issues. We’re all about issues around this house; Tucker and I might start renting them out. Renting the issues not the kids.

You don’t rent kids. You sell them. Or so I’ve heard.

Anyway.

I grabbed a bowl of beans–cold soup beans can’t be beat–and climbed into bed with Tucker to watch a video on the iPad. So we’re just laying there and Cara makes her first appearance.

Cara: I had a nightmare!

Tucker: You haven’t even been to sleep. Go to bed and don’t come back in here!

Cue bare feet slapping on the hardwood as girl child runs from our room. There was also hysterics complete with screaming.

After almost six years of dealing with Cara and her drama, we’ve gotten quite good at ignoring the outbursts.

Five minutes later:

Cara: OK. I had a daydream nightmare.

Tucker and me: A what?

Me to Tucker: So would that be a daymare? [As soon as that was out of my mouth I knew it was lame. I can't be a comic genius ALL of the time.]

By that time Tucker and I had started giggling and which Cara took as her cue to climb up into our bed. We kicked her out. It’s important to show no fear in such a situation; children can be quite dangerous creatures.

She came back.

We kicked her out.

She came back.

When it was all said and done, Cara had pulled her Hello Kitty blanket and a pillow into our room and was lying on the floor.

She slept there all night.

I think that is what they call a stalemate.

It’s been about a month since I last wrote about my garden and it’s time to give you an update.

Between the last time and now, I’ve managed to kill several plants but keep most of them alive. I’ve started looking at more seeds since my goal is to keep growing through the seasons.

Tucker says I should focus on keeping the plants I have alive. I told him to shut up.

The garden as of a couple of hours ago:

Red Runner Bean Flowers

Radishes and Rainbow Swiss Chard

Radishes and Lettuce

Purple Basil

Purple Okra

Onions

Carrots

Peppers and Tomatoes

Bed of everything else

I’m going to make your Friday even better than it already is.

This is one of those posts where I had a bunch of little things to write about but nothing that inspired me to dedicate much time to writing a post on each thing.

Make sense?

On to the little things.

My text to Tucker, “Can we hire a nanny?” I never got a response.

From Tucker: “Rabbit feet are pokey.” and “I wouldn’t suggest you go out there for a while. It’s rather larval and they were none too happy I took away their dinner.”

Explaining the national debt to a five year old isn’t my idea of fun.

After serving a fresh fruit salad–containing fruits Cara loves–and a ham and cheese sandwich I get this [complete with rolling eyes]: “But can’t we have pizza or something? I’m fine just eating ice cream.”

Our house has been taken over by flies. At any point in the day there are at least three flies. We don’t own a fly swatter. Rolled up magazines seem to work best at smashing the bastards. Coloring books not so much. I can’t decide if the flies are due to the fact we have cows and horses behind our house or if they’re leftover from “Roger.” That’s what Tucker’s taken to calling the rabbit. Wonder if Tucker’s Jessica?

My son can’t seem to grasp the concept of opening a door. FIRST you turn the knob. SECOND you push on the door. Dude’s not a stupid kid but he can’t seem to work our backdoor correctly the first time.

“IN OR OUT! IF YOU OPEN THAT DOOR ONE MORE TIME SO HELP ME…I’LL COME UP WITH SOMETHING…” Threats kind of fall flat when you don’t have anything good to finish it off with.

I’ve felt this way all week. About everyone:

She dressed herself; you can’t see the bright red “cowgirl” boots.

He says he’s a doctor. Not sure I want to know what kind.

“He kicked me in the vagina!”

“She kicked me in the penis!”

Image | Richard 'Tenspeed' Heaven

We heard the mail truck–the thing is seriously loud–and the kids and I went out to see what the dude had left us.

Some of our neighbors were outside and I was wearing less than flattering attire so I turned us around and as we were about to head in, I saw a serious case of dust bunnies. Upon further examination, I realized it was actually bunny hair. A quick look around the porch revealed a bunny. A very dead bunny.

I sure hope the mailman didn’t leave us a dead bunny instead of the mail.