Thursday, January 31, 2013
Little Olivia has been giving Lee and I a problem lately. She just hasn't been sleeping enough. She wakes up at 6:00 in the morning (sometimes 5:30) no matter what time we put her to bed. This would be bad enough if it was just her biological clock resetting, because Hubby and I are not morning people and don’t like being up that early. But it’s worse, because she’s not a morning person either. In the two weeks she’s been doing this, the pattern has been that she wakes up around 6ish, is cranky, and crabby, and angry all morning, throwing tantrum after tantrum over the smallest things. Then if we’re lucky she takes a nap and she’s back to her normal, sunny self all afternoon. If we’re not lucky, she’s too tired and cranky to fall asleep, and she’s awful all day long until bedtime.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Well, if anyone was counting, then you know my previous blog post was just a smidge shy of 500 words. That means tonight you get a twofer! So before I have to wait a whole year for this post to be relevant again, here are my thoughts on holiday greetings and the “war” on Christmas. Or, you know, I could just stop here, as I’ve now hit my word quota. But that would be teasing. And cheating. So here goes.
I work retail, specifically, in a grocery store. That means I interact with a couple hundred customers a day. And that means I have to navigate the minefield that is wishing someone well during the holiday season. There are so many choices. I could go with “Season’s Greetings!” I could go with “Happy Holidays!” I could go with “Merry Christmas!” I could go with “Cool Yule!” (Okay, no I couldn’t. I’m not awesome enough to make that happen… but someone somewhere needs to).
Well, I can pretty much say without a doubt that 2012 was the worst year of my life. Here’s to 2013 being better. I started this blog back in early August with the best of intentions. Life really got in the way. Just after I started the blog, my husband was hospitalized for a week for suicidal and homicidal thoughts. He spent several months trying to find the correct diagnosis and the correct medicines, and during that time my little family had to survive on my income alone. Yeah, here’s the thing… I worked at McDonalds. We got kicked out of our house, we spent many nights wondering where our next meal was going to come from, and through it all I had to take care of my husband and my daughter with very little help. Needless to say the stress kept me from this blog.