Run On and On

Don’t you love those days when your two year old starts rubbing his eyes and whining at 10 am but refuses to take a nap no matter how many times you put him down so you spend four precious hours of your day just trying to get him to sleep over and over again but it never works so you’re forced to put off your run until the absolute hottest and sunniest and somehow also windiest part of the day so you feel as though no matter how many times you force yourself out there you never make any progress at all and then you feel guilty because you’re grateful your son is in the 3rd percentile because just imagine pushing a kid in a jogging stroller who was in the 93rd percentile and then all the  mail is nothing more than crappy ads for furniture you’d never buy and a DVD you don’t want to watch because you are stupidly optimistic when you put movies on your queue and then even though you feel like at least you can finally take charge of something because your son’s referral for the gastroenterologist arrives and you call your insurance to make sure the doctor you want to take him to is covered and they assure you that he is when you call the doctor to make an appointment you you get transferred four times and then they tell you that you can’t make an appointment because a REFERRAL is not the same thing as an AUTHORIZATION which you don’t have yet and which they may or may not give you because why in god’s name would they make it easy for a sick little boy to get to see a doctor who might know what’s wrong with him and then when you finally do go on your run not only does your ankle hurt because it always hurts but your sinuses are also killing you because of course you just can’t get a pass and have one run that just doesn’t suck not that it matters anyway because no matter how much you run you never lose any weight and in fact judging by how your too tight sports bra fit this morning you might have actually gained weight and you’re trying to make a pie so you can bring it with you to dinner at your friends house but any time you attempt to detach your (NON NAPPING) two year old from your leg  he screams as though he’s being stabbed with a red hot poker and have you ever had gluten free crust probably you’ve never been so lucky but let me just say that making that pie crust made me want to kick fourteen people in the shins and it’s one of those nasty hot but cloudy days that yoyou cannot stand because really all I ask in this life is a little sunshine and  you  pay out the nose for 960 square feet in the state of California and it is not to spend your afternoons on your back porch below a cover of CLOUDS and even though you cleaned all day yesterday your house already looks disgusting covered with laundry and dirty dishes and dog hair and dirty diapers but you carve out time to empty the dishwasher and then you have to make a pie and your kitchen is once again covered with dishes and parchment paper and half empty bottles and smears of butter and hot dog chunks and your bed is covered with clean and dirty laundry that’s been unsalvageably mixed together and you don’t have any good library books left to read and your toenail polish is chipped and you’re too lazy and tired to fix it and you really should shave your legs but for that you’d need 12 minutes alone and you take your trash cans out to the curb early and notice that no one else has their trash cans out yet and you wonder if your neighbors hate you for being a blight on the neighborhood and you imagine that you’re probably already known as the “loud” family since you spend all day trying not to yell “No” and “Stop” and “Don’t poop on your turtle” and failing in this attempt and then your pie burns and your computer has a virus and you can’t help but notice that your entire outfit is the moral equivalent of an old t shirt and your son spits out everything you persuade him to put in his mouth and no one on Craigslist wants to buy your old crap and the people you want to buy things from won’t call you back even though you’re not really supposed to be spending any money and all that’s left in your refrigerator is string cheese and old lettuce and the soup you ate for lunch makes you sick and you can’t find your other flip flop and you know you shouldn’t complain about any of this because some people have it so much worse but you’re waiting for your  new meds to kick in and you’re coming down off your old meds and you’re so exhausted from your endless rapid fire dreams and your hot sweaty all night blanket clutching that every time a synapse fires in your head you think “Is that it? Am I fixed yet?  Or is this the time it all stops working forever like David Foster Wallace and I sink into despair and no one and nothing can save me?”

(Hint: I do not love those days)

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13 Responses

  1. Is there anything you write that isn’t brilliant? I swear, you could write a grocery list, and I’d be emailing it to friends to read.

  2. I agree with the above comment. I’m sorry your are so overwhelmed, but two things: (1) I’m craving chopped up hot dogs now and (2) the way you write makes crappy days like this still seem very interesting. I hope things pick up soon! 🙂

  3. Me NEITHER.

  4. This could possibly be the most sarcastically funny blog entry that I have read IN LIFE.

    Well done. Please feel free to blog daily. Your wit made my day today!

  5. I couldn’t help but crack up half way through this – even when you’re THISCLOSE to the end of your rope, you’re hilarious.

    I hope tomorrow is way better than today, though.

  6. That is the most fab run-on sentence I have ever read. EVER. I just said to my husband this morning, “You know those days when you wake up and already feel defeated?” and I got nothing but a blank stare. I heart this post.

  7. (wild applause)

  8. Why yes, I do hate those days.

    At the moment, I’m manipulating extra nap time out of The Gambit by utilizing the cloudy weather — is there any way you can get the offspring to sit close to a window, make him stare at the sky for awhile, and then sit a pillow behind him for when he falls over in a coma?

  9. Oh my god, yes. You nailed it.

  10. I couldn’t have said it better myself if I tried. I say you pour yourself a glass of wine right now and flip your middle finger straight up to today in order to make up for yesterday!

  11. Color me impressed that you even painted your toenails! Of course, I don’t know if this was before Eli was born or after! 🙂

  12. Yes to all of it. ALL OF IT! Hope today is a little less, um, fluid.

  13. “don’t poop on your turtle!”

    classic.

    (remember, this is the valley. you’ve been here before, then there’s the climb and then you’re up on the plateau. not saying the plateau looks all that great from the valley but at least it’s up, right?)

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