Friday Ramblings

In the last week or so, I have become a night owl. I am not normally one to burn the midnight oil and I'm almost never the last one up, yet this has been the case most of the last 7 nights. So why am I up early this morning you wonder? Aren't I tired? Don't I have the beautiful (beautiful for sleeping - 65 degrees and cloudy) day off? Shouldn't I be catching up on my zzzzz's? Yes, yes and yes!

Actually, last night was the best sleep I had in many nights. I have spent many an hour tossing and turning this week. I suspect my sleeplessness has everything to do with the one single episode of The Doctors, a show I swore I would never watch ever, and then broke said promise for like 15 minutes one day. That's all it takes people! It was out of desperation...I had no choice. Thanks to the federal government's switch to HD, CBS is the only channel to tune in on my kitchen's ancient television. (If someone somewhere can explain what the benefit of prompting hoards of people to either dispose of perfectly good, yet enormously toxic and non-recyclable televisions or force them to pay hoards of money to a cable company please educate me.) In any event, this particular show featured a woman with a rare disease (psychosis?) that made her feel like she was being bitten by bugs (not bed bugs either) in the middle of the night (especially between the hours of 1 and 3 a.m.). Of course, I am now convinced that I have this obscure disease...an ailment I cannot even pronounce...and of course, I am wide awake every night from 1 to 3:00 a.m. Hello, my name is Evie and I am a hypochondriac. I am not, however, psychotic, but I do think this is all a govern*ment conspir*acy.

So, I was up and adam this morning to help my hubby get the kids off to camp. He's a little out of practice with the morning routine around here. Don't worry...I already gently reminded him how awesome I am and how lucky he is, and how he can repay me with tickets to see U2 for my upcoming 40th birthday. Hi Love...if you are reading this...they are coming to Chicago August 13th. I'm trying to muster up the courage to hit the gym this morning. I'm a little scared to face my cardio instructor, M., just hours after she caught me with a large Rocky Rococo's pizza. She had a smirk on her face as we said our 'hellos'. I am sure she was thinking that it's the last thing I should be eating at 9:00 at night. It's a good thing she didn't know it was loaded with both sausage and pepperoni or that I washed it down with a large glass of wine. Some of you know just the glasses of which I am speaking. Explains why I slept like a baby last night.

Why was I feeding my family dinner at 9:00 last night? Aren't I the caring kind of mom who forgoes sleep to take care of the children? Don't I know that it's bad to eat right before bed? Don't I know that there are nitrates in sausage and pepperoni and they are linked to cancer? Yes, yes and yes. But...last night was the All Star game, and although T Bone's team didn't prevail, we were celebrating the official end of a season well played. He has been talking about Rocky's for weeks and let me tell you...I have never heard him so quiet as when he was devouring those greasy slices. It was worth the risk of obesity, heart disease and high cholesterol to have a few moments of silence. Anyways, he's going to my Dad's for a couple days. My Dad regularly makes my daughter a whole bag of chicken nuggets for breakfast because that's what she wants. What I'm trying to say is that I'm fighting a losing battle for this weekend at the very least. Am I admitting that there aren't many rules at Grandma and Grandpa's? Am I actually ok with that? Will I really turn the other cheek just to get free babysitting for a couple days? Yes, yes and yes!