That’s what Kate said to me this morning as we were coming inside. She didn’t say it in an angry or pestering kind of way, either. Just one of her Kate-ish observations. And I hate to admit it, but she’s right.

I’m crusty.

I’m not feeling well at all. Nausea that comes and goes and lasts for a while before dissipating (before you ask…I’m * this * sure that I’m completely alone and playing hostess to a Paskowski peanut…) once again. I’ve come pretty darn close to actually throwing up a couple of times and I’m not generally much of a puker. I have a headache that just won’t go away and my body is achy and tired. Leave it to me to come down with something two sleeps away from Don’s next visit, eh? And don’t forget…I don’t have anyone to call in sick to. None of my “bosses” give a shit one way or another whether or not I’m under the weather. They are hard asses to boot. I haven’t had a day off since 2001.

And I’m whiny. Just in case you haven’t noticed.

Thankfully, Rock is coming to pick the kids up after he’s done working tonight to take them out for dinner with his mother (thank goodness for Gramma M…if it wasn’t for her, we might never see Rock during the week!). I’m looking forward to my kid free evening more than I care to admit. Only trouble is I have a few places I need to get to before the end of the week and I won’t have time for more than one of them tonight, never mind the fact that I have no desire whatsoever to go anywhere. All I want to once they leave the house is crawl into bed or maybe curl up on the couch for that episode of Six Feet Under I keep meaning to watch. But nothing more adventurous than that.

I don’t think it’s going to happen.

I have a list of things I need from town. Stupid things that I’ve run out and some things I definitely need before the weekend. There will another primp night on Friday after the kids are in bed and I need supplies.

I also have to get to the reservation (which will be called the rez from this point forward) and should do that tonight. It’s about an hour there and back, though and it takes the whole evening to complete the trip. My sister graduated from her holistic nutrition course a while back and I’ve been looking for something to give her for the occasion. There’s a really neat gift shop on the rez that is usually full of good ideas and good conversation, too from whoever is working that night..

Did I mention that I don’t feel like doing either of them?

I was hoping to get a surprise pedicure for Don’s arrival on Friday but that ain’t gonna happen unless one of the places starts offering child care while you are being buffed and scraped and polished.

I was also hoping to check out the new local porn store for a, um, “device” that I think that might help things along. But that’s not going to happen, either unless they have some sort of blocked off, darkened room in the basement where you can dump your under eighteen companions.

Kids sure do ruin a lot of fun things!

Yep. I’m crusty.

This new bra is not working out that well, either, I might add. It’s pretty comfortable and all but I’m getting the uni-boob. It was the biggest size available in the store and it was also my usual size but apparently it doesn’t fit as well as I thought it did in fitting room. Gr. Actually, I probably shouldn’t blame the bra. It’s my breasts that are the problem, no doubt. The Fenugreek and Blessed Thistle are doing their jobs…I had a few drops of milk again the other night…and that means an increased breast size. Scary.

Which brings me to the next place I’m hoping to visit sometime again soon…the hospital. I want to rent an electric breast pump for a few weeks again and the hospital is the only spot in town that rents them. I should actually look into buying one (hint, hint, nudge, nudge!) so that I can better my chances of fully re-lactating and then also be able to maintain milk supply in between seeing Don. Luckily, I * can * take the baby or any of my children with me to do that. Only trouble is that their hours suck the big one and the close early every day. Maybe tomorrow…

Kate is rolling around on my bed.

It’s a beautiful, beautiful day. Late summer like temperatures and a gorgeous sun. But she refuses to play outside by herself. She wants to wait until Emma comes home but by then it will be too late because Rock will be on his way.

My parents are stopping by tonight. Oh joy.

Rock is getting off of work early so he might have to see them. Double fucking joy.

Maybe the Fenugreek is making me sick? It can be a side effect of the herb although I’ve never had any experience with that myself. But this is a different brand.

I’m not pregnant. I assure you. Oh wait…I already said that.

My computer is acting up even more than usual. It hates me. Or maybe it’s from all of the “bizarre” porn, eh? Just today I found women who have sex with dogs. No wonder I’m not feeling well.

Michael refuses to have an afternoon nap.

I have a second load of laundry to be folded.

Kate is talking to Santa.

My hands are dry.

My dreads are not dreading quickly enough. Hey…did I ever tell you that Michael has dreads? He does. At the back of his head. He’s got about, oh, six or seven or them. Very cute in a punk rock baby kind of way.

He also loves the Clash. A lot. And Rancid. A lot. That’s my boy.

This post is probably my dullest yet.

Might be time to start talking about the washing machine, after all…

Happy Wednesday, everyone! And congratulations on the whole first black president thing. Pretty awesome. * grin *