Queen of Rambles

My husband is a very confused man. He thinks that just because he has to go to work at 2 this morning, he gets to go to bed at 8. He thinks I am joking when I command him to go buy me chocolate ice cream. He doesn’t realize that I NEED ice cream, but already have my jammies on.

I am not pregnant, so I couldn’t play that card. I tried, but I already told him the blood had arrived. Damn me and my mouth.

I really, really need chocolate.

Right.

Now.

Then he did the unforgivable.

I was whining about the lack of chocolate in the house and he told me he had a secret stash and could get me some!!!!!

And then he laughed because it was a total lie, just like the time he totally lied when we were going down a big hill and he promised he knew a secret route home that didn’t involve an uphill walk. Liar liar pants on fire! How am I suppose to trust a man who lies about chocolate and uphill walking?

At least it was a really good day today. Half our preschool class was absent, so we just did a playdate. Erik, the little booger, was upset because we didn’t do our routine. This is the boy who refuses to participate and wreaks havoc during routine time. I was more than a wee bit confuzzled.

He got over it very quickly, and the kids rolled around like pro-wrestlers for two hours. At one point Erik and the other little boy gave each other such boisterous hugs than they fell over with a crash. It was the most hilarious thing I’ve ever seen. I guess they weren’t too hurt because after I helped them up, they did it again. And again. And again.

I felt really guilty because I couldn’t eat the lunch (tuna macaroni salad), but I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t. Instead, I ate the PB & J provided for Erik and let him eat the salad. To my mortification the hosted took note of my picky appetite and brought me fixings for a turkey sandwich. That was very nice of her, but I get really embarrassed about my picky eating. She was probably sad that I didn’t want to eat any of her salad.

My potty tote was a hit. One of the ladies wanted me to make her one just like it. I would, but it was made with scraps so I don’t have any of those fabrics left. I told her if she bought some fabric, I’d make one for her. You commenters have convince me to leave the knot. Yay! One less thing for me to fix. I felt quite stylish with my fancy bag, today, though the feeling was ruined by my ugly blue backpack. I have never been a backpack person, but these days it is a matter of practicality. Now that I don’t have to pack around diapers maybe I can go back to a purse, though I still have to pack around enough food and water to nourish a small nation. A very, very small nation. There is a nation of three out there somewhere, right?

Later in the day, we went to the pool and I got a young high school school’s phone number. No, you weren’t suddenly transported to a high school boy’s journal. There were two really nice girls who instantly attracted Erik. I expected them to coo at him, then turn away and do their thing. Instead, they played with him for two solid hours. I felt like leaving and telling them to drop him off at my door when they were done. One of the girls likes to babysit, so we borrowed a pen and a bandage wrapper from the lifeguards and I now officially have a babysitter who lives two buildings down. I really like my other babysitter, but this will be handy for a quick afternoon appointment or what not. The other girl said she doesn’t like to babysit because her mom babysits so she’s around little kids all day. I am kind of glad I didn’t have to take both their numbers since I would have been stressed out about hurting the feelings of whichever girl I didn’t call. It’s always so refreshing to meet good people. I know good people are out there, but they are so quiet and unassuming that you don’t get a chance to know them very often. Instead, you notice the assholes who push everyone’s* buttons.

Last, but not least (before the TMI starts), I started Twilight at the gym today. I am only 60 pages in and have no idea what’s going on, but I can see why people are addicted to this series. Meyer really knows how to write. How many books are planned for this series? I believe there are three in print with a fourth being released this August? Is that correct?

Oh! And I’m addicted to Scrabulous on Facebook now. I know I am just a year behind the trends, but that’s always the case. Feel free to start a game with me and I will be more than happy to play you. You’ll win. I have never won a game of Scrabble in my life, probably because I’ve only played three times ever. I am not really sure of all the rules, but I know you have to spell words. Isn’t that knowledge enough?

And now for our nightly session of TMI! Don’t worry, I promised no more Erik potty talk and no more Erik potty talk shall there be. Instead, I’ll subject you to female reproductive talk. Avert your eyes now, ye who have week stomachs.

So, my period started today. I was going to make a doctor’s appointment on Monday, but I’d rather have a crocodile bite my leg off than call a doctor’s office so I put it off. Then I thought, Behold! The mystery is solved! And I didn’t make an appointment today. I still really need to do it just for my general health, but I didn’t have any sense of urgency.

I was so crampy this morning that I didn’t think I was going to be able to take Erik to preschool. I couldn’t find my Advil, which pisses me off because I have a new bottle of pills and I couldn’t find them for weeks when they suddenly appeared in the exact spot I remember putting them. I don’t remember moving them from that spot, but they are gone now. I need them! And I need a better brain.

Cramps. Lovely. Sickening. Blah.

I found my Diva Cup and that works just as well, if not better, than Advil for cramps. When I bought it, I had no idea that some people find it reduces cramps so that was a surprise bonus feature. I love this thing! I have never had a single drop of leakage with it and my cramps are non-existent once I have it in. I was really pleased to read an article the other day stating that tampons are hard to come by in college dorms these days because everyone has their personal menstrual cup. Good for bodies, good for land fill, good for the pocket book! I’m so glad I wasn’t a menstruating person back in the days of garter belt clip things. Ewwwww!

Mystery non-pregnancy solved, right?

Except no. Not solved.

I was taking care of my cup tonight and (this is where it gets really squeamish) the results were not at all period like. There was maybe two drops of really bright red blood.

So we’re back to “gotta call the doctor and have my leg chewed off by a crocodile.” When am I supposed to have time for this?

*Grammar geeks, help this strayed English teacher. My spellcheck always says “everyone’s” is wrong. How else would I indicate that something belongs to everyone? It is about time I solved this mystery and quit looking like an idiot.

First up, the promised picture of the oh-so-glamorous potty seat insert tote. Isn’t it grand? I need to trim the handle down to size, but for today I just made a knot in it and that worked fine. I didn’t intend for it to have that big red stripe down the middle, but when I cut the original squares, I underestimated by a couple of inches and had to figure out a way to make it bigger. We’ll just call it abstract art, shall we? I wish I had some of the plastic fabric that diaper covers are made out of, but I don’t so this will have to do. At least it’s washable.

Why do I need a special potty tote? Because the potty must travel alone. It sits in public toilets and gets really germy, so I prefer not to have my water bottle and snack snugged up against other people’s ass grime. I don’t need a giant bag for a small item. I wanted something light and easy to transport, especially since I’ll be taking it as my personal item on the plane. I’ll have my wallet and other stuff in my back-pack. Erik is too little and too terrified to sit on a gaping toilet hole without the support of the insert, so I have no idea how long I’m going to have to cart the stupid thing around.

And now for the very last potty talk that I’ll subject you to in what I hope is a very, very long time. He stayed dry all last night! I don’t understand how he can go from having a night diaper that’s so full it leaves little gel beads on his butt to being totally dry, but he did it! He hasn’t had an accident since Thursday so I’m officially calling him trained. The end!

And now on to bigger and better things.

I got the scare of my life this afternoon. It was a yucky day outside–too hot to play, too cold to go swimming–so when Erik decided he needed a bath I ran up the stairs and plopped him in the tub. Score!

About 20 minutes into the bath, I started hearing people talking. Loudly. In my living room! They were calling for Erik and sometimes they were calling for me. I know I am a bit on the paranoid side and can let my imagination get away with me, but I’ve never had auditory hallucinations before. I called out a greeting, but no one answered. I kept hearing weird stuff going on, so finally I grabbed a kicking, screaming, wet Erik (he probably could stay in the tub by himself these days, but did I mention I’m paranoid?) and the cordless phone and tried to sneak down the stairs. Sneaking is hard when you are carrying a screaming preschooler.

I got down the stairs and looked around. No one was there, but I was still hearing someone yell Erik’s name.

Then I glanced at my laptop.

My nephew’s face was in the chat box and he was jabbering away. I didn’t realize SightSpeed would connect a call without being accepted, but apparently my nephew had been trying to get our attention for some time. He couldn’t see us, but he could hear us singing the ABC’s and other stuff so he knew we were home.

While I was trying to get that sorted out, Erik escaped from my grasp and ran back upstairs. I don’t know what I was smoking but it didn’t occur to me that he’d get back in the bath. I finally figured it out and ran up the stairs. He was happily splashing away.

How’s that for non-drama? We all made it out alive.

My sister finally told me why her husband has a big black eye. His story (which may or may not be a total lie) is that his son and his son’s friends beat him up. Rob (the husband) went over to his brother’s house for Fourth of July. Robbie (the 20 year old son) lives with Rob’s brother. Robbie wants to be a cage fighter or some such non-sense. Rob told him he was a wuss and couldn’t fight, so there was a huge brawl with whiskey bottles being used as clubs, black eyes, stitches and broken hands. Aw, to hang out with drug addled alcoholics! Personally, I think it’s more likely that one of his hooker’s johns beat the crap out of him, but don’t tell my sister that. She doesn’t believe he still goes to hookers.

I’m so looking forward to Saturday.

Actually, I am. Erik is totally stoked about the trip and won’t quit begging to go. It will be worth being there just so I don’t have to hear about it any more. Every time we get in the car he is convinced we are going to go to the airport so we can fly to see his cousins. I’m so happy they get along so well, but so sad that they barely ever get to see each other.

I think I better wrap this up and go to bed. I haven’t been taking any sleeping pills the past several nights and the insomnia is exhausting. I had another negative result today, 8 days post expected period date. I think that is a definite no. I can risk the sleeping pill tonight.

I just used all my free evening time to sew myself the most glamorous item ever. You are all going to be so jealous when I post pictures tomorrow! You’ll be clamouring for one! Too bad I didn’t make a pattern, because I could make a mint!

Curiosity peaked? Just a little?

I made a tote for Erik’s potty insert.

That’s me, urban sophisticate extraordinaire. I carry around a potty insert and I don’t care!

This potty training business is not for wimps. For the past couple of weeks I’ve been carrying around the potty insert in a Macy’s bag. I was trying to add a little class to my life, but class is pretty sparse when you have a potty training 2 year old.

I was dreading trying to figure out a way to carry the insert on the airplane next week, so I hit on this solution. It’s. . . interesting. And the handle is about 20 inches too long. I hate too short tote handles so I went a little wild. I can sling it over the wrong shoulder and wrap it around my body and it still hits below the hip. I’m thinking I may have a little editing to do tomorrow.

Other than that, today has been pretty boring. We went to the mall and I got a new, free phone. The poor guy took a look at my old phone that is completely unhinged and didn’t even try to up-sell me.

Erik had a great time playing around at the mall, but then we had a little emergency. This morning he was very insistent that he put mousse and hair spray in his hair. He probably had half a can of mousse in his hair by the time all was said and done. Then he went to the mall, ran like a maniac, got all sweaty, and had all that gunk drain right into his eyes. His eyes must not be quite as sensitive as mine because I tried to wipe it out with a diaper wipe and he didn’t mind that. Those things make my eyes go crazy.

We headed over to Toys R Us for the first time since Christmas. Man oh man oh man I could spend a lot of money in there! I’m not even a kid! I always dreamed of going to Toys R Us and Chuck E. Cheese when I was a kid, but our town didn’t have either of those things so I was never in a Toys R Us until I moved here. It’s a little overwhelming. I was looking for stuff for the plane ride and kind of blew my budget. I feel like it was all stuff that we’ll get good use of now that we aren’t watching TV, so that’s ok. The only thing I have left on my “get Erik” agenda is one of those pop-up tents, but we’ll get the $10 one from Ikea at some point. Maybe Mike can make that his mission while we are in Oregon. He also needs to clean out the carseat and adjust the straps. Are you reading this, honey?

Does anyone know if Play-doh is allowed on the airplane? It would make the perfect distraction, but it looks like plastic explosives. I just did a google search and it seems lots of people have this question but no one knows the answer.

I talked to my family on the computer again today. My sister’s husband had a big, black eye and no one would tell us why. I hope my dad gave it to him, but I doubt it. I don’t think my dad could move that fast these days.

Braxton was getting really mad at Erik because Erik kept picking his nose and eating the boogers. The more Braxton would tell him to stop, the more he would do it. Have I ever mentioned the boy is something of a little shit? It is so hard not to laugh at him some days. Erik does the same thing to me, unless I use The Tone. Mike is very helpful when The Tone comes out and Erik and I have a power struggle. He runs into the kitchen and laughs his ass off. I don’t think that’s very fair! I want to laugh my ass off too, but I have to keep a straight face or all is lost.

I do believe it is time for me to hit the hay. If I was the praying sort (and I was for many, many years, but then I got tired of all the hypocrisy I was seeing. If you want to read a great post that reflects my experience in a fundamentalist church, read THIS excellent post), I would be praying very hard tonight. Erik had a completely dry pull-up the last two mornings, so when he had a complete conniption when we put on his pull-up tonight we decided to risk him in just his training underwear tonight. We’re still co-sleeping. I do not want to be cleaning up pee at some crazy hour in the morning! I can’t believe I have a potty trained child. It was a slow process, but once we got serious about no diapers ever during the day he caught on pretty quickly. I just had to be brave enough to risk it. And really? It obviously would have been bad if he would have had tummy troubles, but as it was just changing a solid turd underwear isn’t the worst thing in the world.

Happy Day After Fireworks! Or, you know, just another ordinary day at the Indian buffet.

We didn’t actually celebrate with fireworks yesterday, mainly because we have a toddler who goes to bed before the sun sets. No way were we dragging him out in the middle of the night to a fireworks display, which would likely cause him to piss his pants in fear. We don’t need any pants pissing around here.

Plus, there were thunderstorms all day yesterday.

And fireworks are totally illegal in our county.

We were supposed to meet up with our Doctor Family friends for a picnic, but instead we moved the party to their house. We ate a bunch of food and watched the kids run around. Does it get any better? I think not.

With the cruddy weather and the limited TV rule, we had to get creative with entertaining Erik. We ended up at PetSmart the minute the opened their doors and spent well over an hour hanging out in there. Mainly, Mike and I stood around while Erik hung out in a giant dog-igloo. We want to buy him one, along with a nice doggie bed, and try to convince him to sleep in it. Who needs to give a kid a room when you can give them a dog house instead?

I found a cat that wanted me to adopt her. It was a really pretty calico cat. The card claimed she was shy, but she came right up to me and begged me to take her home. We would totally have a cat right now if cooler heads didn’t prevail and remind me that I am very allergic to cat hair and dander. I don’t need to commit myself to several years of snot problems.

I don’t even like cats.

I made a huge mistake yesterday and mentioned that we will soon be getting on an airplane and going to see Erik’s cousins. Big. Mistake. He wants to go NOW. I thought he was over it, but he talked to my sister and my mom on the phone this afternoon and they both got him worked up again. Afterwards I made him a chart showing all the things we have to do each day before we can fly on the helicopter (he’s decide a helicopter is way better than an airplane). I knew he wouldn’t get the concept of time passing, but it did keep him quiet for twenty minutes. That’s all we can ask for in this life, isn’t it?

The no TV thing is going really well, I guess. Tonight we had to force him to watch TV when it was time for his nightly bed time ritual. How awful does that sound? We were both beat from keeping up with him all day and needed the break. Once it was on, he didn’t complain! Even though this makes my life a lot harder in some ways, I’m really glad we’ve cut out so much television. His creativity and intelligence is coming to the forefront.

I’ve been reading that Einstein Never Use Flashcards book and am trying very hard to take some of the suggestions and talk to him a lot more. I am going to make Mike read that section as well. We are just too quiet. Probing questions are not our forte. Thankfully, he is suddenly into books. Sorta. He’ll let us read him some books if we turn the pages at his rate and don’t get into the story too much. I guess that’s supposed to be totally normal, so maybe he’ll be a reader after all. He really prefers doing art. Mainly, telling me what to draw than watching me try to draw it. Have any of you seen my art work? No? That’s because I can’t draw. At all. Nada. You should see the picture of a dragon I drew for him. It looks like a winged caterpillar with fangs.

This post is taking a turn to the boring so I better wrap it up. I read The Sugar Queen by Sarah Addison Allen today and totally loved it! She is also the author of Garden Spells. I think I liked this one better because I could relate to the characters a little more. A couple of the plot devices were very obvious, but I don’t know if that’s just because I read way too much or she needs to work on her subtlety. Either way, I highly recommend it. Once again, it is in the realm of Southern magical realism chick lit.

I think I’m going to try to make a doctor’s appointment on Monday and get my thyroid checked. Still no period. Still negative tests. I’m feeling very sluggish and have an insatiable appetite when I’m not getting ready to hurl. My left lower abdomin still has sharp pains. I’m thinking either a tubal pregnancy or my thyriod has taken a turn for the worse. I know a six day late period doesn’t sound like much, but I’ve needed a check-up for years and I am never late so I might as well go in and get some blood work done.

I was just re-reading last night’s post and decided I should rename myself the Staccato Queen. Did I think I was sending a telegraph? Did I forget that proper sentences need a subject and a verb? Did I forget that using conjunctions to begin a sentence is only ok if you are trying to make a point, but shouldn’t be the basis of your whole writing style?

I’m surprised I have any readers left!

I blame the TV entirely. Or should I say lack of TV? Erik has no TV chilling time, so I have no computer chilling time, so I have to pack in as much information as I can with very little time to think about it. Woe is me, woe is me. I won’t become the next Mega-Blogger. I think after six years of blogging, that dream has died a sad little death. I love my little blogging community and don’t need the trolls that the super-stars have to endure. I don’t have the emotional capacity to handle trolls.

Speaking of trolls, not every person I meet lives under a bridge and has bad manners. I meet quite a few nice people during my daily jaunts, but they are not very interesting to write about. I really enjoy most of the women in my social circle these days. They each have quirks and I could write little snippets, but I don’t want to. I would never want them to discover the writing and construe it as anything other than good hearted fun. Thus, I’ll keep my sharpened pen ready to cut down the psychos, bitches and weirdos and leave the normal-os out of it.

Does anyone have big weekend plans? We’re going on a picnic with our Dr Planet friends (I need to get consistent nicknames. They both have PhDs relating to planet/spacey stuff). We’re all looking forward to it because the whole family is “our kind” of people. The man is European like Mike. The woman is from Idaho. We have a lot of similar philosophies and beliefs. Their son is a little sweetheart, though he can give Erik a run for the grouchy money. I love spending time with them because it’s so comfortable. There’s never been any weirdness. Their house is lived in. They are casual and relaxed. There’s no pretense about anything. Tomorrow is going to be a great day.

The end.

Or not. Didn’t that sound like a middle school essay, though? Staccato Queen. Word. Word. Word. Shot. Shot. Shot. Staccato. Staccato. Staccato.

The word staccato is starting to look fake.

The limited TV experiment is going well, but the potty training took a nose dive today. The dear boy hadn’t pooped for two days, which is really unusual. He’s usually like clockwork. Of course, he picked the middle of the triceps track, my very favorite BodyPump exercise, to poop his pants. Couldn’t he have waited for the lunges? I had a mini internal freak-out because the turds were bright red. Blood! No. . . Play-doh? Couldn’t be. Ah-ha! Fancy red food coloring gels from the frosting we made on Monday. Dare I say the coloring works better on turds than on frosting? The frosting was pink. Very, very pink even though the label claimed to be Christmas Red. The turds were just the right shade.

Hey! Dooce made it to the top by talking about poop, so this is just all my evil plot to become a super blog star.

As suspected, the gym poop wasn’t enough to make up for two days of pooplessness. He pooped his pants again when we got home while he was standing next to the potty. Is this the rebellion stage I’ve heard people talk about? It must be. He cried this morning and begged for a diaper, but I am D-O-N-E buying diapers. I have 45 left and they are for night time only.

He’s also obsessed with sticking wipes up his butt, which is totally charming. NOT! It was funny the first couple of times, but now it is just a waste. He’s totally out of wipes though, since he put a whole brand new tub of them in the toilet today. GRRRRRRR! At least he didn’t flush. I guess we can take the toilet lock of that particular toilet. He can open it at will so it’s just a nuisance for our guests.

Can you tell today was a really exciting one? I don’t have any non-Erik related anecdotes. I didn’t meet any weird people or do any weird things. I got my endorphins through BodyPump, but how exciting can I make an entry about lifting weights? One girl had 60 pounds on her bar for squats. She couldn’t get it over her head, so the teacher tried to lift it up and couldn’t even hold it. All I could think of was that poor girl’s back. Have I mentioned lately that I’m addicted to BodyPump? I don’t know what it is about lifting weights in time to the music, but I LOVE LOVE LOVE it. Except, of course, the time I had the scary teacher and was in a room full of super-trim twenty-somethings. Then I hated it and wanted to cry, but we’ll try to put that out of our minds and remember all the good times.

I need to go to bed. What shall I read? I finished Shadows Return by Lynn Flewelling. Much squeeing was involved. I need to go to her LJ and leave her a nice comment. Not that she would really care, but she might. I don’t know. It would probably be better to go write a nice review at Amazon instead.

Picked up a real test just for you people. And me, of course. You know I can’t keep a secret, nor can I stand suspense.

Answer was a clear no.

My ovary feels like it is about to burst. Weirdness. No cramps in the traditional sense, but a very sharp pain on my left side.

Erik is about to drive me out of my freaking mind.

Off to a book swap/playgroup/potluck. Let’s hope his behavior improves so I don’t have to explode in front of all my friends.

I bought a three pack of Target brand pregnancy tests last night. I always like to have a back-up, and I figured I am probably not pregnant even though I am three days late and we did our best to make it happen this month.

Sooooooo. . .

Test last night was all funkified and not reliable.

Test this morning?

Are you ready?

Is the suspense killing you?

It’s killing me too!

Stupid thing didn’t do anything. No control stripe, no nothing.

Can I return used pee sticks?

I need to go to the Dollar store, methinks. But would their cheap tests be better?

Oh. My. God.

It was dark outside this morning when Erik decided he needed a snack. I am not sure what time the sun rises, but 4:15 ain’t it.

We came out to get a cereal bar because I’ll be damned if anyone is going to eat in my bed. He immediately saw the dark and was beyond excited. I was confused at first (remember, it was still the middle of the night), but then I realized that he hasn’t seen the dark since daylight savings switched over.

I was not going to start my day at 4:15, so as soon as he was done with the cereal bar I dragged him back to bed and told him he had to sleep.

Ha!

He babbled on and on about the darkness. I put a pillow over my head and ignored him. He tossed and turned and never did go back to sleep. At 5:30 he announced he had to pee. What is a potty training mother supposed to do? Backslide and tell him to pee in his diaper? I don’t think so.

So up we went.

It was still dark outside.

And up we stayed. No nap for us all day long.

It’s a good thing I was in bed at 8:59 last night or today could have been a whole lot worse.

Did you know there are people out jogging at 6 am? And the nasty, gross, crowded Wal-Mart is calm, pleasant and clean at 7 am? Not that I want to make a habit of being awake that early, but it sure was nice to get a few things that you simply can’t pick up at Target (like a really cheap radio controlled monster truck and a big pitcher thingee that holds a bag of flour).

By the time we went to the gym at 9:30, it felt like we’d already been up half the day.

I am ready to declare Erik day time potty trained. He only had one accident today and that was totally my fault. We went to the park with no bathroom and were there for two hours. I saw him holding himself and sort of tried to get him to pee, but he was having a lot of fun and there was no place to pee. He was really unhappy when he wet himself, so that’s a good sign. He was dry at the gym, the grocery store and Michael’s. Now watch him wet himself ten times tomorrow.

I just have one question. What am I supposed to do in two weeks when we are on our trip. If all goes according to plan we will be in airports or airplanes for approximately 15 hours. I can keep taking him to the bathroom on the plane, but there are certain times when it is simply impossible to get to a toilet. Do we revert to diapers for the day or just carry a bunch of underwear and shorts in the backpack? At this point I think I’m inclined to just carry the extra underwear and shorts. I’m not even going to attempt to bring all the toys I usually bring. He’s not interested and they take up a ton of space. He’s a pretty good self-entertainer when there are people around.

Speaking of his self-entertaining. . .

Remember I said we were going to cut off all his TV time? It was to the point that all he wanted to do was watch TV. We arrived there slowly. I never wanted to be the mom of the kid who was a couch potato at age two, but it was just so easy and I’m lazy by nature. We are now letting him watch TV for 30 minutes in the morning, 30 minutes while I take my shower, and 1 hour at bedtime. The first day was pure HELL. The second day was only hellish. The third day was fine.

The boy is like a different child. He’s a lot happier and less whiny. He plays with toys. We talk a lot more. We’ve been painting and coloring and cooking and just generally doing the things that we should have been doing all along. We even cleaned the walls and baseboards today. What the hell am I doing cleaning walls and baseboards?

Now let’s hope I remember this and don’t get complacent again. There are, of course, downsides to doing this. I can’t just sit on my computer all day staring at blogs and e-mail. I have to be engaged and doing things. He knows that the computer can play games, so as soon as I look at it he wants to play too. And I have to be. . . well. . . more engaged. Being engaged all day gets tiring, especially when you are an introvert who needs me-time.

And on that note, I think I better go have some me-time before I go to bed. Can I hold out till 9 pm?