"Vacation"

I made a deal with myself to keep writing on this blog because my brain is always reeling with stuff, usually shallow meaningless stuff, but I wanted to keep writing. But unfortunately my life the last couple weeks have prevented me from having the time and inspiration to write at all. But I've wanted to bitch, and I have A LOT to my friends and I can only imagine they are sick of hearing the same BS day in and day out. So why not use this medium to bitch about my problems. Yay!

I am leaving on "vacation" tomorrow for over 3 weeks. 24 days to be exact. 24 long days. Why am I calling it a "vacation" with quotes? Because... I get to fly across the country to a different state with tropical weather and sandy beaches and blue waters. Sounds fabulous, right? Sounds like a real vacation. But there's a "catch". I'm flying across the country to the state with tropical weather, sandy beaches and blue waters to spend time with my in-laws. My in-laws are decent people. I like them probably because they do live across the country. But they are, after all, my in-laws. And, I'm taking my kids. And as every stay at home mom knows there is no such thing as a vacation with kids because all it means that there is no vacation--we are just doing the same damn things we are now just in a different place. Someone who works for Intel doesn't bring their clean suit with them on vacation so they can assemble microchips do they? No, they don't. Stay at home moms have to do our jobs everywhere, all the time, on vacation or not. Grrr...

Anyway, because of this "vacation" I've spent the last 2-3 weeks stressing on what to bring for me and my kids for 23 freakin' days. 23 days! Because my husband doesn't give a shit about what to bring for them. Packing for him is a few t-shirts, a couple of shorts, boxers and socks and he's good. He doesn't understand what I go through everyday keeping these kids happy and clean and clothed in semi-clean clothes. And here's the kicker my lovely mother-in-law believes we should bring the bare minimum. She suggested I don't bring make-up or jewelry. She suggested I leave all my "fancy" soaps and lotions at home because I won't need them on "vacation". Doesn't she know I need that stuff?? Earrings makes me happy. Smelling like honeysuckle, gala apples and stephanotis makes me happy. Covering up the massive string of acne brought on by this stress with my make-up WILL MAKE ME HAPPY! Does she want me to be a miserable bitch the whole time? Because I will. If I can't have my earrings, lotion and make-up I will be a miserable bitch. Add that to the fact that I'll already be miserable having to deal with my sweat hog devil spawn children and my husband who remakable turns into a child himself whenever his mother is around. Why can't I have these little things that make me happy? Geez...

*Deep breath*

After three days of doing laundry without stopping, attending 2 birthday parties in 2 days, saying goodbye to my sweet puppies as we dropped them off at the kennel, and trying and failing miserably to make responsible lists so I don't forget anything, I'm left sitting here the night before we leave feeling exhausted and unmotivated to do anything but bitch to you all who choose to read this and feel sorry for me. Because I know you do, right? You feel sorry because I'm going to miss my favorite television shows the next few weeks. You feel sorry that my plane is landing in the city of happy-happy-joy-joy and I don't get do enjoy any of it (do you know how expensive Disney World or Universal Studios is? Daaaamn!!). You feel sorry that I have to spend 23 days on "vacation" with my uber-perfect mother-in-law who thinks jewelry, make-up and scented lotions are of the devil and shouldn't be brought onto any plane going anywhere.

The good thing? My father-in-law likes to drink beer. Lots of it. And he, or my MIL for that matter, don't look down on me at all if I choose to drink too. My brother-in-law makes a mean mojito and my husband--believe it or not--makes the best margaritas north of the border. Can you feel where I'm going here? Maybe I'm looking at this all wrong. My "vacation" is really 23 days of child care and I could spend most of it intoxicated.

Now, to make my night so much better I'm going to watch this video (for the 100th time) and get happy and remember there are beautiful things in life. Beautiful, tattooed, guitar playing things that were put on this earth to make me happy. Oh yes. (Even the still of the video makes my heart skip a beat!)

BTW, the hotness really starts at about 2:07 in. Just for those of you who like to get down to business quickly. ;)

I apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors that may have occured. I claim no ownership to my bad English skills. I blame my junior year English teacher who felt it necessary to give me a D only because she didn't like me, forcing me into Remedial English my senior year at which that teacher ask me "Why are you in this class?" And quickly promoted me to College Prep, then to AP. Ha! Take that teacher of which I don't care to remember your name!

I also claim no ownership of the show The Voice. That is owned by NBC. I also claim no ownership of Adam Levine, although I wish with every pore of my body I did own him and those guitar playing hands were mine.