I Earned the PNN Mug!

I was just notified by Leigh that I earned the PNN mug! Honestly, I thought the contribution to receive a mug would extend to serious articles, deep arguments instead of my cynical meddling into other people's conversations. Actually, even more honestly, I never thought about a mug, but remembered a post of someone here who posted a picture of it. I love mugs, and was deeply touched to be awarded with such a creation for my dark grey points of view ( I try to steer off black).

This message cheered me up. The last two days have been hard on me. It started with my toddler being sent home from daycare for being cranky. No, no fever. Cranky. Seriously?! First of all: have you just met?! Second of all: can I send him back there for getting me even crankier? As if it's not enough to stay at home with one baby. I understand that we cannot be too careful during the flu season, but...We were scheduled for a flu shot later that day, after the doctor made sure that the toddler was healthy enough to receive the shot, the latter came down with the sore throat late at night, followed by throwing up due to the agonizing cough. At least we managed to see Dancing with the Stars, the Results Show.

So, it's not easy to be at home with 2 kids. No, it's not breaking news, I'm aware. The long planned shower is yet again postponed. Olay toner for oily to normal skin can replace a shower, did you know that? ( does that count as breaking news?) Errands. What errands?! I actually did ironed the laundry...I know, I'm the last of the Mohicans. By the way, did they have irons? Did they wear enough clothes to iron?

Cranky was changed fast to the usual non listening in full energy mode. There is a constant noise of banging, dangling, screaming ( of joy), knocking, hammering. No, there is no current construction in the house. Occasional high pitch scream, oh, right, that would be me...I caught myself hoping that the loved to death would get better fast just so that he will finally go to the daycare & relieve my stress.

At the dinner time, I insists he eats himself, with the premonition of the pre-K threatening my brittle nervous system next year. After the high pitched ( or scream, depending upon who describes it) "take the spoon into the mouth!", the adorable looks at me with the Cat from Shrek eyes and without lifting the spoon says :" Mama, I love you trillion!" Isn't that ice melting?!

We're off to do a puzzle. Baby is crawling, grabbing the pieces, prevents us to complete the picture of raving angry dinosaurs. There are 3 more hours to go before bed time. The stress gets the worse of me, but kissing them good night I feel apologetic for all the negativity I poured out. I recently asked my husband: do you think he feels loved? Because he is. We are just tired. Is that a valid excuse?

So, there is a mug in mail. I love mugs. I love mail. I'll be able to sip my tea from it slowly after the day is over, the kids are in bed, well and healthy, and our favorite TV show is on.

Oh, a nice side table with a vase on it fell. The table is broken. GREAT...Have to go...run...