I find it difficult to form complete sentences when running on 3 hours of sleep. Additionally, it’s hard to think in any intelligent manner when there’s a child attached to your boob for 22 out of 23 hours. I’m not saying I don’t like it. I’m just saying it’s damn hard, people.

Now that we have two children, I’m thinking its time to get our family picture done again to better reflect our growing numbers. Besides there is something so totally wrong with this picture: it doesn’t accurately portray me as the Oinker I am since gaining all this weight after my pregnancy. That’s right, after, people. It wasn’t a typo.

See? Here we are, Magic Marker Mom, The Man, and The Child Take One:

You know, I am tired of talking about my teeth. I’m tired of worrying that they are all falling out (They pretty much are! Score!). I’m really frackin’ tired of going to the endodontist, which is really just another word for man/devil who feels enjoyment from causing massive amounts of pain. And because I am Murphy’s Law personified, it should come as no surprise that my last root canal is causing me massive amounts of agony. I’m pretty sure that not all of the root has been taken out. The tooth has been filled and sealed, so the pressure (Oh! The pressure!) is killing me, dudes. I think my head just might explode. And here’s the thing: I keep hoping and praying for the pain to go away because, God help me, I’m not sure I can handle another novocaine shot. My denial is so great that I have convinced myself that I will go to bed tonight in hellacious pain and wake up tomorrow feeling fabulous. Again, I’m pretty sure that these things don’t work like that, so wish me luck tomorrow when I call the man/devil endodontist.

The fact that Florida has no helmet law for motorcyclists always give me great pause. Do I speed up and leave it to Natural Selection or slow down and exercise caution because it’s the Right Thing to Do? No, no, no. Just kidding! Although I have always believed that the brain that does not want to protect itself is the brain that just might be too stupid to have the chance at deciding our next president and should be eliminated. Again, I kid! Sort of. Anyway I rarely say such things aloud. When I see a person on a motorcycle sans candy coated shell, I think “meh” and move on. Let’s face it: I’m usually too preoccupied with my own short-comings, insecurities, and neuroses to spend all that much time thinking about someone else. However, if it is thinking about another person’s short-comings I have all the time in the world. But, I digress. . .

The other morning on the way to school Bugs and I passed one such motorcyclist without helmet. I tend to be an opportunistic type of mom and sensing this might be a fine time to talk about Safety, I asked the Bug if he saw the guy. “And what do you think?” was my reply, assuming that his self-righteous indignation was proportionate to mine. I thought his reply would be something along the lines of, “Gee-whiz, Mom, I think that one should always don protective gear when mounting a two-wheeled vehicle. Frankly, whenever I am behind the wheel of a motorized vehicle I should always be wearing a helmet and I think that guy is clearly nutters!”

Instead, the Bug said, “I think I see an organ donor.” Yeah, well, I nearly wet my pants too.

Here’s my secret: I totally chickened out of my dentist appointment yesterday. I called the office and pretended that my babysitter couldn’t make it and I’d have to reschedule. I wonder if this lie will come back to bite me in the ass someday. Probably.