Bad Day 252--I have nothing to say.

I spent all day working on my EER and I have one paragraph done. And it's not even that good and has one tiny thing of substance in it. I am a good Southern girl and I don't like bragging about myself and that is exactly what these employee evaluations are--big brag letters like those ones you get at Christmas where all the children get perfect scores on the SATs and someone gets into Juliard and someone is valedictorian at Harvard and the bad child only goes to Johns Hopkins. And they have a brand new mansion and all took a cruise around the world for vacation. Those kind of letters. So that is what I have to write for myself and I hate it and that's why I only have one lousy paragraph.

The rest of the day was hectic with lots of running around and half accomplishing things including sort of going grocery shopping and sort of making dinner and kind of making Child 3 do her homework. And I kind of did the laundry, too, if matching and folding a few pairs of socks counts as doing laundry. My pile of socks is only a little larger than this one.



I've put it smack dab in the middle of where Husband normally sleeps, so I have a couple of months to get it done, although I think some of them lost their mates several moves ago. I expect someone in China is thinking, how did we get all these pink socks with no mates? I should just throw them away, but I keep hoping the matches will magically show up. Or maybe what I should really do is just make the children put them away and wear mismatched socks. Since the school thinks I'm irresponsible and lazy anyway, unmatching socks won't make much of a difference.

This man in Hawaii is having a worse day than me, and it is his own fault because he obviously has never read John Le Carré, or Daniel Silva, or Tom Clancy. How can you work for a defense contractor and not have read Tom Clancy? I thought it was part of the job description.

But anyway, he fell for a classic "honey trap" in which a pretty foreign agent convinces a sad middle aged man that he is a babe magnet and then gets him to give her classified material. Now, I am a rather dumpy old mom who has been married for a long time and I am not delusional enough to believe that someone I meet at a conference who is way hotter than me would be actually interested in me as a person and not as a passport or a bunch of classified information. Sadly, there are people who are exactly that delusional and this guy was one of them. I don't know what his Chinese girlfriend/spy said exactly to get him to give her state secrets, and I hope I never find out. Whatever it was, it wasn't worth it because a) they are no longer together and 2) he is probably going to jail for a long, long, long time and it won't be in Hawaii. So thank you, Mr. Spy, for reminding me to be grateful that I will never commit treason and get locked up for the rest of my life because my Chinese girlfriend manipulated me into spying. I hope you like the snow, because the Supermax prison where you are going is high in the mountains and very, very cold. It's the opposite of Hawaii. Didn't think about that when you were passing along vital American secrets to your hot girlfriend, did you?

And brownie points to anyone who gets the reference to one of my favorite TV shows. I miss that show. Also brownies.

Bad Day 251--There are limits!

Apparently, many families have house rules like no eating upstairs or no jumping on the beds. I have not made many house rules, in part because the children have bunk beds and it's hard to enforce the no eating upstairs thing when a) you are not home and b) you keep snacks in your own bedroom. Also, my children are older and have a lot of common sense. However, apparently when you fill out a bunch of forms for the school about your child's needs, the fact that you don't have rules for the house shows up as a problem and you become in danger of being labeled a bad parent, or at least an ineffective one. So tonight I am setting limits and I am determined to enforce them. There will be bedtimes and they will be observed. The children don't look like this anymore, but I miss the days when bedtime was when I put them in their crib and not when they were "sortofmostly" finished with their homework.



Before I had children, I was a perfect parent and I always swore that my kids would go to bed at 8. However, after I actually gave birth to the children and discovered that naturally, they would go to bed at 9:30 and sleep until 9 am, and then when I discovered that if I got them to sleep at 8 they would be up at 7:30, then I figured, why push it? So the kids have always gone to bed a little later. Plus, I only have so many hours to be with them after work, so I haven't pushed the bedtime. But now, I will because the school thinks I am a bad parent and that is the reason Child 3 is behind on her homework. I could try explaining that it is all Husband's fault for going to Afghanistan, but then I would be an irresponsible parent, as well as a slacker who doesn't set limits and can't make her daughter do her homework. Also, if you know me, the idea that I don't give the children limits is laughable. But still. We'll try the bedtime thing, but that also means they won't be able to talk to Husband because he won't have woken up by the time they go to bed. Stupid 8 1/2 hour time difference.

The people in this village in Turkey are having a worse day than me. They had a footbridge over a creek much like this one.



When they went to bed, it was there, and when they woke up in the morning ready to use it, it was gone. Completely. The whole entire bridge. Authorities think it was cut up and sold for scrap. So now the residents of the village have to take off their shoes and wade across the creek. So thank you, bridge stealers, for making me grateful that the river I cross each morning is too big to steal the bridges from overnight. No way you're carving up the 14th St. bridge in one night. And thank you for reminding me how nice it is to wade across a stream in your bare feet on a hot day. When you want to, of course, not when someone has stolen your bridge!

Bad Day 250--Going green! But not that way.

We all wore green today. Except The Dog. We don't have a St. Patrick's Day costume for her. We ate our traditional Irish boiled dinner of corned beef, cabbage, carrots, and mashed potatoes. We also make a green jell-o salad with pears and creamed cheese and whipped cream. It was delicious and completely gluten-free. If I could only eat like this every day, but the cafeteria at the Department never has delicious jell-o salad. Mine looks like this only without the fancy mold. I need a fancy gelatin mold. And a food processor, but that's another post.



We had another shredding party tonight. The children are fascinated with the shredder and I'm happy to let them do all the work. I know eventually they will get tired of it, but maybe we will get through the box by then, or at least most of it before they figure out that shredding can be a chore.

Will someone please explain to me why I have the song "Old Dan Tucker" running through my head? I haven't heard it in years and I don't even know all the lyrics. I had to look them up because it's driving me crazy to have the tune in my head and not know the words. Also, in my head, it's inexplicably sung by Loretta Lynn. I'm losing it. I must be. Maybe I've already lost it and I don't know it. Husband is going to come home and I will be a crazy lady with leaves in her hair running around in a nightgown singing folk music. I'll have to buy a nightgown first, though. Crazy women wear flannel nightgowns and I don't have one. I refuse to be a lunatic who is not dressed for the part.

This man from Atlanta is having a worse day than me.



I know, you are thinking, that he looks very normal. Except see that non-descript beige milky drink in his glass? That's his dinner. And breakfast. And lunch. He decided that shopping and cooking were too much trouble, so he invented a nasty what he calls delicious nutritional drink (and named Solyent like that one in the Sci Fi movie where it was made out of people) which is supposed to have all the nutrients you need in it in order to live. He claims he is healthier that he has ever been, lost 13 pounds in one month, and he doesn't miss food at all. The problem is, he's a young guy, and they tend not to have taste buds anyway. I much prefer to cook a variety of foods and exploring new recipes is one of my favorite hobbies. So thank you, Mr. Soylent drinker, for reminding me to be extremely grateful for the leftover corned beef in my refrigerator right now. I might just have some for breakfast tomorrow. Way tastier than an odorless beige drink. Soylent! Only a ma could think that was a good idea.

Bad Day 249--Not the girl who popped out of the cake

Lots and lots of cookie sales today. It was the last weekend of Girl Scout cookie sales, so both children who are Girl Scouts had booth sales to work at, which of course meant that I also had booth sales to work at. And that I bought $40 worth of cookies. Which I can't eat. So we are sending our cookies to Afghanistan. Literally. When I talked to Husband on Friday, someone in the background reminded him to ask about the cookies, which I assured him were coming. All the extra money donated to the troop is going to buy boxes to send to his post to share with the troops. I hope they like Thin Mints, because that is what they mostly have left. But then, who doesn't like Thin Mints? I even like Thin Mints and I am allergic to them. I miss Thin Mints. And brownies.

It is late, but the children and I are watching Brigadoon, and we can't go to bed until it's over.



Brigadoon is one of the most romantic movie musicals ever. I mean, seriously. How can you look at that picture and not sigh? The first time I saw it, I knew I wanted to be just like Cyd Charisse when I grew up. Unfortunately, I am not a tall, leggy, beautiful brunette ballerina. More like the opposite of that. But still, I can pretend. When I was explaining about who was in the movie to the children, I told them it was Gene Kelly from Singing in the Rain, which they love. Child 2 asked if that was the girl who popped out of the cake or the one with the funny voice. If you don't get why that is such a hilarious question, then you need to watch more musicals. The most fun part is watching Cyd Charisse walk with her knees bent through most of the movie trying to pretend she isn't six inches taller than Gene Kelly. But hey, if I had to squat in order to be in a movie and dance with him, I'd do it. Heck, I'd walk around on my knees for months for the chance to dance once with Gene Kelly. Or someone like him. Maybe Mark Ballas. He is not the blonde in the dress.



Hendrix, and English Springer Spaniel is having a worse day than me. His owner was on her way from New Jersey to Phoenix, which is in Arizona, which is west of New Jersey. However, apparently United Airlines did not know that and put Hendrix on a flight to Ireland, which is east of New Jersey. Across an ocean. And is a whole other country. Of course the owner was devastated when she arrived in Arizona and found her dog was half-way around the world. United says they have apologized and refunded her money. I certainly hope so! Because they charge an arm and a leg to fly pets cargo just across the US, let alone to Ireland. So thank you, Hendrix, for reminding me to be grateful to double-check our tickets when we fly to Arizona this summer, just in case. And to be grateful that we are not taking The Dog with us. But next time we fly with The Dog, if she accidentally ends up in Ireland, she can just stay there. Really, it will be OK. No need to fly her back. Maybe we should take her to Arizona after all.

Bad Day 248--Lavender blue

I knew the optimism wouldn't last. Today was one of those days where nothing went wrong, but it was still all just wrong. I'm tired of being a single parent. I'm tired of being responsible, and I'm tired of having to do it all. And I'm just tired. I think there is no way to make an unaccompanied tour fun for everyone and I honestly, truly believe with all of my heart that the families left behind have it way worse than the employees. I would say that next time I'll go and Husband can stay behind at home, but the children have already told me that is not an option. I believe the exact words were, "Don't leave us home alone with Dad! I don't want to eat fast food every day!" Apparently, last year, when I went on business trips, he never cooked and they were sick of pizza and tacos. Which is really funny when you think that we made gluten-free pizza ourselves tonight and they loved it. Child 3 even gave me a gluten-free pizza crust mix for my birthday. So, making pizza at home with Mom--good. Ordering pizza at home with Dad--bad. I don't understand it, but I am an excellent cook, so maybe that's the issue.

Child 3 has been complaining about her stomach hurting for weeks now. Months actually. Stupid, unobservant me thought it was stress. And then lactose intolerance. But it very well may be wheat, so she's going gluten-free with me and already she is beginning to feel better. She is all excited about it now, but she doesn't yet realize she has to give up brownies and Thin Mints. Luckily, she is not allergic to chocolate, so she can still have a lot of candy. Just not Twix, or Kit-kats. I miss Kit-kats. And brownies. Sigh.



Because I'm feeling so lavender blue, the only people I could think of who could possibly be having a worse day than me are these Greyhound bus passengers in New Jersey.  You see, they lived my worst nightmare. There they were, having a nice ride from Atlantic City to New York, when suddenly, their bus was swarmed by cockroaches.



Not just one or two, but so many that the driver had to pull off the highway. Greyhound sent a new bus and refunded everyone's money, but still. They have to live with the nightmare. So thank you, Greyhound, for making me resolve to never, ever ride a bus to New York. I will definitely drive in my minivan. Although it's old and a mom-car, it doesn't contain a single cockroach. It had better not or I will just get out and leave it on the side of the road. With the keys in it. Running. I think the insurance company might total it for a cockroach swarm. But I'd really rather not find out.

Bad Day 247--The barnyard is busy

It's spring. I can tell because the trees in our neighborhood are beginning to flower, and my colleagues are all sniffing with hay fever. I don't get hay fever in the spring, thank goodness, but I do get optimistic, which is rather disconcerting for a pessimist. Something about the sunshine and warmer weather and flowers turns me into a person I hardly recognize--the kind of person who hums and and swings her purse when she walks. I know! Weird. So how I know it is really spring is that I was daydreaming about Husband today, which is something I find myself doing a lot lately because it has been so loooong since I last saw him. And then I found myself planning things we would do when he gets home, which, if you know me or have read this blog at all, you will know is totally 180 degrees from where I usually am which is thinking all the time that July is a million years away and Husband will never, ever be home. Never! So the planning for the future together caught me off guard. Could I actually be finally able to handle the whole separation thing? Nah. It's probably just temporary, but it is hard to be pessimistic when the world looks like this.



Tonight for dinner we had Child 1's improvised soup recipe and for fun, I threw in a can the tomato soup from Britain which doesn't have any wheat in it, and like many things in Britain made with tomatoes, it is orange. Bright orange. I don't know what is wrong with English tomatoes, but they are a weird color. So the soup was orange, but it tasted good, so I guess I can't complain. But I am glad I didn't buy an entire case, and I guess I'll have to find another wheat-free brand unless I want to get used to eating orange food that is not Cheetos. Only Cheetos should be that color. And creamsicles. Not soup.

So today at lunch, I was that lady. You know: the one that has all the questions about the food and requests something special like a substitution or a subtraction and takes all that time ordering? You know, "I want the Italian salad dressing instead of the ranch, but I want it on the side." That lady. And then, after all my questions about wheat and soy sauce and explaining I was allergic, they handed me my lunch and it had a big cheese biscuit right on top. So I made them take it off and I ate the lunch anyway and of course I feel sick. So I don't know if it was cross contamination, or it had something else in it, but I won't be going back to that food truck. Bummer. The Department runs out of baked potatoes around 12:15, so if I don't get to the cafeteria early, there is nothing for me to eat and today I had a conference where they did not feed me lunch but made me sit and listen to long boring speeches saying nothing but saying over and over again that went way past lunch. So thus the bad food truck full of cross-contamination. Ugh.

Speaking of cross-contamination, the owners of this bakery in New Jersey are having a worse day than me.



They claimed that their baked goods were sugar-free and gluten-free, but apparently, they weren't. The FDA actually tested the products and found sugar and a bunch of allergens including wheat. The bakery "voluntarily" shut down their facility and will have to remain closed until they meet FDA regulations. So thank you, Butterfly Bakery, for reminding me to be grateful that sometimes, the federal government actually does have my back. OK, actually, a lot of the time, since they pay me and all. But still, the laws are there for a reason and it's nice to know someone cares when companies mislead people about what's in their food. (Jelly bean makers, I'm talking to YOU! Gluten-free my foot.)

Bad Day 246--Back, by special request!

I am still sick, so Child 3 has offered to guest blog for me today. Before she begins, I should mention that she also made me a delicious dinner and served it to me on a tray. I feel very well taken care of. I cannot promise that the blog won't be in Spanish, but you can use Google translate as well as I can. Child 3, the blog is now yours!

Hola mi amigos! Me llamo Child 3! No, the whole thing is not going to be en español, ¡muchas gracias! Okay, so today is pretty much average so I'm going to list the weirdest things about me.

Disfrutar!

• Whenever I go into the kitchen alone, I dance with no music
• I enjoy annoying my sister
• I hum a lot of Le Mis songs during class
• I OBSESS over Niall Horan
• 3rd youngest in the ENTIRE SCHOOL
• I haven't read Harry Potter but I LOVE the movies
• I have my mom's nose
• I love Pandas, Penguins, Polar Bears, Turtles, Dolphins, Cats, Dogs, Bunnies, and Whales
• For some reason, I want to be Irish (WHAT!?)
• I make the weirdest/funniest/randomest/most unforgettable jokes ever

This man in australia is having a worst day than me. Apparently, he is sick in bed at home. Even though he is on vacation in Australia! Wow who knew he could be two places at once. Well, there was a shark attack on the beach so he had to save two children.

Honestly, lying to your boss and getting fired. PLUS tackling a shark.

So thank you Mr.LyingMcSuperHero  for reminding me that I don't have a stressful job,

and I don't lie either.