Procrastination Addict

Yep.  That's me.  The procrastination addict.  We're going away for the Memorial Day weekend, leaving tomorrow and coming back Tuesday.  There are thunderstorms on the horizon, the sky darkening by the second, bigt raindrops just started splatting on the deck.  I can barely see the keys on my laptop anymore.  But here I'll struggle to see, and to write a blog post for the first time in a month, after 3 years, because I don't want to pack.

I have My Little Pony on to keep the girls occupied so I can concentrate on packing - HA!  I mean, concentrate on procrastinating.  I have piles of laundry and a giant suitcase open on the floor.  I'm SO CLOSE to just doing it and being done.  But packing 6 people for 5 days takes coordination, counting skills, and patience.  I have none of those.  So here I sit, and write.

Even the kids are WAAAYYY ahead of me.  They have 10 pretend suitcases, packed to the point where they had to sit on them to close them, full of my little ponies, a pair of Winx Club wings, a baby-doctor medicine dropper, ya know... all the shit the kids play with every day but none of it actually goes together.  No clothes, just shit tons of toys.  (Which they surely could get by on for 5 days straight - the clothes on their backs and toys.  Too bad I can't.)

(By the way, it's now so dark I can't even see the keys anymore, so it's taking twice as long to type, having to fix all these mistakes.  I really should turn on some lights.  But with my luck, that would be a flag like, "Hey!!  We still have power and it's helping me!  Someone flip the switch!!!")

I know full well that I'll be up until 2 in the morning after using spray shampoo so I can jet out to the stores to get the last minute shit, packing, and procrastinating, wishing the whole time I had finished early so I could relax with my husband who we all know will be in the recliner while I run around like a mad woman.  Then I get to wake up 4 hours later and get the sheets off the beds, don't forget the pillows, everyone get dressed, shit we need to remember juice boxes and snacks, I still need to shower, do you REALLY have to shit right now?!?, why is there yogurt all over the couch, everyone go pee, where are the fucking pillows!?!, tetris-pack the car and leave.  I've always said vacations are great and all, but not nearly worth the amount of work it takes to go on one.  But does any of that knowledge make me get my ass in gear?  Nope.

Clearly I'm not just a chronic procrastinator, I'm also a masochist.

There's only one way to break the cycle... PACK.

My children WERE naturally conceived

Ya Know What Really Grinds My Gears?

The hoopla over people asking if someone's multiples were "natural."  I understand that they ask for the sake of figuring out whether you had fertility treatments or not, and most people wouldn't ask the parent of a singleton how their child was conceived, or if they were conceived out of love or rape.  But what's the big deal about sharing your story??

Even I wonder, and sometimes ask - but you never know if that person will flip out so you can't outright, as a fellow MoM; or maybe it's more appropriate as a fellow MoM? but I don't really know the rules there... just like the general public doesn't know "our" rules.  Mostly, I want to know if we have something more in common - and of course, so I can be extra smug.  (That's sarcasm; would I really act that way?  NO.)  So is that a crime??

Is that a crime?  No.  Does that make a child conceived through medical assistance a cyborg?  Nope.  A Swamp Thing?  Uh-uh.  Alien?  Guess again.  They're children.  Whether conceived naturally - as in, through sex, or through ART - as in, "the manipulation of egg and sperm in treating infertility."  The very translation of "in vetro" is "in glass."  One of the many meanings of "natural" is "characterized by spontaneity and freedom from artificiality, affectation, or inhibitions."  And just FTR, "spontaneous" is defined as "occurring without external influence," or "occurring naturally and without apparent cause, such as spontaneous remission," which I think are harsher opposites to fertility treatments, just saying.

If I wanted to be a douche, I could use any synonym for spontaneous to describe my triplets, since they were, and these words are available for my use as part of the English language to describe my children having been conceived:

• Automatically
• By chance
• Accidentally (this is actually also true)
• Effortlessly
• Serendipitously
• Unexpectedly
• Unwillingly

In the end, we all have beautiful children, regardless of how they were made, they were made.  You should never be ashamed of how your children came to you.  And don't ever forget that if you want to brave life outside your house, the general public will ALWAYS be obnoxious.  So just deal with it.

And that, people, is what really grinds my gears.  Tom?

ATTENTION WHORE ALERT!!!

What's up, bitches???

I am jumping on here breifly to let all my followers know that I am shamlessly plugging my shiny new blog, Damsel in Diet Stress.  I am hoping that the more people that know about it and follow it and all that jazz, the better I will be about taking care of it and being good with my eating habits.  Ya know, telling the world your real weight and how much ice cream you snarfed after that bowl is a good way to stay on track.  Heh.

So please feel free to spread the word, and the 1/3 the fat cream cheese.

Much love,