I'm gonna lose my shiz

My child is driving me absolutely insane.

See, I live in Alabama. It usually does not get very cold. We usually don't get snow. So when we do get snow, everything shuts right on down. It snowed late Tuesday night/early Wednesday morning. And not just little flurries or a sprinkling. We got a good 2-3 inches of snow, which is a lot for Alabama. 

All the schools in the area closed Wednesday, including my son's pre-school. Which was 100% fine, as I was planning on keeping him home anyway. Even if it didn't snow, I wasn't going to take him to school. I'm not a fan of the car seat winter coat shuffle, and it was going to be below freezing all day. So we had a fun, fully anticipated snow day.

And then school was canceled again today. Ok, no big. Mark was off work again (because everything shuts down when it snows). Eli was restless, but he was manageable. And I had the promise of him going to school tomorrow. Eli and I were both super excited that he was going to get to go back to school tomorrow. And then they closed all schools again tomorrow.

My child is going to literally be bouncing off the walls. He was super upset when I told him school was canceled tomorrow and then proceeded to act like a giant ass the rest of the night. I am expecting the same tomorrow. I can understand roads being bad Wednesday and maybe even today. But Friday? Ya'll (the city, county, whatever) get some sand and salt and melt that shit. I understand we're not prepared for weather like this, but they had plenty of time to get some supplies. I don't know, maybe it takes more than that. I am just not looking forward to spending yet another day with a stir crazy child.

Maybe the roads won't be bad tomorrow, and I can take him to Chick-fil-A or something. But I do know one thing: Monday can't get here soon enough.

And this is how I die.

How morbid is it that I think that phrase at least once daily? I've got a chest cold and am walking in the freezing wind with my coat open: this is how I die. I start laughing and can't stop coughing: this is how I die. I step on this Lego, slide on that coloring book, and fall into the doorway: this is how I die. My child won't quit whining from the backseat of the car: this is how I go crazy and then die. It's a bit ridiculous, and it's not like I have a death wish. I think I've just watched one too many episodes of 1000 Ways to Die.

Anyhow. I'm sucking at this whole "write something every day" business. The above passage was actually written Friday. Nothing written yesterday. Forcing myself to write this now. But I AM sick. And I'm pretty sure this cough is going to kill me. The antibiotics are breaking everything up, and I can't stop trying to hack stuff up. Trying is the word. I hate this phase of it. I'm technically getting better, but it feels like I'm getting worse. It's no fun. Eli keeps asking if I'm ok, over and over again, while I'm in the middle of never ending coughing fits. Like, kid, I can't answer you. I can't talk or breathe. I'm not ok, and now I'm super annoyed too. He's the sweetest, and I love him. But geez, kid, leave me alone and let me cough to death in peace. #andthisishowidie

Carrie, Carrie, Carrie

Girl, you should NOT have carved your name into his leather seats. All that other shit would be hard to definitively pin on you. But your name? Bless your heart, sweetie, you're going to jail.

I didn't write anything yesterday. I'm still sick, probably getting sicker, but at least the pain has returned to normal. I'm not really feeling up to writing much today either, but it felt like skipping again would lead to a habit of not writing.

And with that, I'll take my leave.

Fibromyalgia is a b*ch and then you die.

Can I take a moment to moan and groan and bitch about my fibromyalgia? It's been a bad day.

As I mentioned yesterday, I am sick. Nasty cough, runny nose, angry sinuses, the works. Now, for a normal person, having a cold is unpleasant. But my body seems to think I actually have the flu. Every joint and bone and muscle from my hips down are in achy, miserable agony. My back and arms are also feeling fairly terrible, but at least they're not as bad as the legs. I know I don't have the flu, as I don't have a fever or the chills. I just have a stupid body with stupid overactive nerves that react stupidly to various stimuli. And being sick is one such stimuli.

To complicate matters, another fibromyalgia triggering stimuli for me is weather change. Especially cold or wet weather. And it is stupidly cold. We are in Alabama. It should not be in the 20s and 30s outside. I need to move to the desert. Somewhere hot and dry sounds amazing at the moment. 

Because honestly, I'm having a hard time dealing. I'm not sure what I did in this or a past life to deserve this; but I'm really really sorry, and I won't do it again. Most days, the pain is manageable with a few tricks such as avoiding gluten like the plague. But on days like this, with my whole body just being a big ol' ball of pain, I have to do the whole whiny 'Why me?' bit. I just wanna eat a cupcake or something, but that would just make it worse. And so I just wrap myself up in any heated blanket, throw, pad I have available and try to remember that it's not always like this.
.......
And just when I thought my day was already sucking enough, I go into the kitchen to get something for Eli and hear water gushing from the laundry room. Couldn't get anything to turn off, couldn't get ahold of anyone to help me turn it off. I'm really winning at this adulting thing today. Like, how is it possible that I don't know how to turn off the water from the road? How the crap is it that I can turn the water off to the whole house from under the kitchen sink, yet the water to the laundry room won't turn off? The first answer is: I've depended on my male friends and family to save my ass, and that seriously needs to change. I'm going to get Mark to show me how to take care of basic catastrophic shit. The answer to the second question is that this house was just pieced together (and not well, may I add) and it's stupid and I hate it.

Anywhoo.  Luckily Mark was able to come home early and save the day. I'm now back in the comfort of my heated throw, appreciating that it could indeed be worse. Instant karma at its finest.

Long time, no write

Well, it's been 4 years since I've updated this blog. Infancy and toddler-hood is very time consuming and extremely worth it. I also developed fibromyalgia shortly after Eli's first birthday, and that's a whole different set of challenges and issues. So between the baby/sleep deprivation brain fog and the fibro (brain) fog, I haven't really been feeling the struggle that is writing. It is a lot easier to read other people's stories than it is to write your own. But I have resolved to fight through the fog and try to write everyday. Some days it will be this blog, some days it will be a story that I've been working on forever, and some days it will just be me writing down some ramblings that popped into my head. I'm hoping that by writing daily, I'll again become comfortable enough to apply for freelance writing jobs and work on my stupid book idea.

This is a quick entry, as it is New Year's Day, I have an extremely noisy child, and I'm sick. Concentration isn't really an option at the moment, but I felt that skipping writing today wouldn't set a very good precedence for my new year's resolution. And with that, I'll leave you. Enjoy your holiday, and there will be more writing to come.