Don't bother me I'm writing

I'm an unhappy riser -- anyone who's ever had to wake me up will attest to this. They might go a step farther and tell you I'm a belligerent, rabid b**ch in the A.M. I am -- especially when I wake up late. Mornings have always been a challenge. And most people know better than to pick a fight with me while the gunk is fresh in my eyes. But for whatever reason my husband -- once again -- strays from the pack in this arena. Too bad for me -- I've given him a buttload of ammunition since I started this blog. And there, of course, is the downside to admitting your foibles to the world. Someone will undoubtedly turn them around on you, and you -- like me in many a heated argument -- will be completely disarmed by your clever diction. And so I was this morning. I woke to my daughters screaming playfully, but alarmingly loud in the bathtub. The time on the clock was 8:10 a.m. giving Lily just 25 minutes to get dressed, fed and out the door to school. And seeing as ...

I'm a lot like Pigpen -- the Peanuts kid beleaguered by filth. I'm messy. I cook messy, do my hair and makeup messy, get dressed messy, fix my coffee messy -- I clean messy. My husband hates it, and I  hate that he follows me all over the house to catch me in the act of making messes -- and the moment I turn my back on something that's not where it belongs he jumps out like a jack-in-the-box and scolds me. It drives me insane -- explode-out-of-my-skin homicidally insane. It occurred to me last night while I was angrily rolling out a pie crust -- swearing because the dough was too warm -- that Jerod -- my husband  -- is my Grandma Kay's revenge. She popped into my head first because she'd disapprove of my swearing. Then in mid chuckle -- my mind's eye picturing my grandmother clap her hands and chirp something disciplinary like "don't be so ugly" or "I'm very disappointed" -- I felt something soft and slippery glop between my ...

I've been following this story about a 2-year-old boy who went missing in Bellevue on Sunday after his mother reportedly left him alone sleeping in an unlocked car. She told police she had run out of gas and walked with her 4-year-old daughter to a Chevron station. She claims that her son was missing when she returned to the car an hour later . And here's the kicker: She was arrested two years ago for leaving the same child -- a newborn then -- unattended in a car while she and her then-husband went shopping at Target. Who knows where the boy is -- whether or not his mother has anything to do with his disappearance. Hearing these stories sets off  my crazy-mommy instinct to grab my kids and hug them til their eyes nearly pop from their sockets. We're all guilty at some point of taking our children for granted. It's especially hard when I come home from work and Jerod says, "I'm sick. Here's the kids. I'm going to...