Wednesday, March 28, 2012


The Good Ship Amy, she's a-teeterin'.

I don't know if it's the last post, and my mind stretching to wrap around all those hungry adults sending their kids out to murder other children (whatever, so I'm not into sci-fi, I guess).

Or if its from trying to stretch my admittedly feeble brain around a neighborhood watch guy deciding the kid he sees walking home with candy in his pockets looks too scary to just be walking around on the sidewalk, plus what is it with that sweatshirt, so he handles that swiftly with his gun, and then goes home and (who are we kidding, you know I'm right about this next part) eats Hamburger Helper for dinner, then tucks into a warm bed for the night.

Um, last I checked "Neighborhood Watch" was like a clear-eyed liaison group who reported sketchy situations to the police so they can come handle it. Because, you know, it's their job and everything. I kinda doubt that Zimmerman's volunteer description said, Definitely kill whoever looks like they may or may not have Skittles in their could be a weapon, and anyway, you know how crazy kids get when they're on sugar. Shoot on sight.


And then I was folding laundry last night (the whole time I was thinking how easy it would just be to lay down right on top of it and go to bed) and I ended up SOBBING after getting sucked into the '19 Kids and Counting' episode (SPOILER ALERT for all of you people who watch the show religiously - no pun intended) where they go for an ultrasound to find out if their 20th baby is a boy or a girl and instead they discover the baby has no heartbeat. Here's me, folding socks and crying away, just sniffling and crying, because their baby girl (they discover she's a girl when she delivers her a few days later) is gone. Evidently it didn't matter to me that they already have a boatload of kids, poor little Jubilee Shalom had no heartbeat. And her name meant joyful celebration and peace, as if I wasn't already crying hard enough amongst the underwear and tank tops.

Are you crying yet? Maybe it's just me.

In any case, it could be hormones or PMS or lack of sleep or trying to figure out how to work full time and prep meals in advance that all four of us want to eat so I don't have to run from work to home to voice lessons for the girls and back home then back past the voice lesson class to puppy school in the pouring rain all the while checking work emails and planning Spring Break and wondering what I'm wearing this weekend and oh yeah, what the FRICK am I going to pull out of my ass for dinner since the flat iron steak I had in mind is not getting put on the bbq in the rain.

Or maybe it's the movies and the Florida boy and the twentieth girl that are all floating by the Good Ship Amy, wreaking more than a little havoc. On top of which, I've been fighting the flu for 5 days and all I want to do is curl up by the fire and sleep. a Disney cruise is what I need. Disney IS made up of the happiest stuff on earth (and also probably lots of crying kids on a boat). Obviously when we win the lottery tonight that will be the first thing I make a reservation for.

God, I can't wait. It will be the most expensive and fun vacation I have ever slept through.


  1. I'm afraid this Good Ship Amy isn't doing much better this week. Maybe it's the name? Or maybe it's that we try so darn hard an still come up short (by our own outrageous measure, of course). You may feel like you're unstable, but I know you're a rock--for the girls, the husband, the dog, the co-workers. Keep it up...a little rocking and rolling can be exciting (in an utterly exhausting kind of way).

  2. Exhausting is right. Having a kindred Amy is right too. :)

    1. So, on Saturday, I crumbled to the floor of my laundry room and cried a heaving, heartbreaking cry because I realized that there was no humanly possible way I could get my girl to gymnastics class by 5pm twice a week without taking a pay cut. I then told my girl I signed her up for the Saturday class instead, you know, the class without her friends in it. And she cried a heaving, heartbreaking cry and then accused me of making her sad on purpose. Yeah, I feel you Good Ship Amy.

    2. This makes me want to cry more than the Duggars do. We are in cahoots though, fear not. I disappoint my girls a lot I think. Also, I'm EMBARRASSINGGGG. Or so I'm told. Frequently. At great volume.

  3. Just read 24, 25 & 26 in succession.
    1. You are welcome to move to Wichita. Lots of land, low cost of living, not so good shopping, but I will be your friend and we will go to "the big city" once a quarter to shop at a decent mall.
    2. Hormones.
    3. Life and hormones.
    4. For what it's worth, you make me smile. And laugh out loud. Even though I fear you may be living in my brain at times.
    5. Hormones. (It always ends there, doesn't it?)

  4. Wichita has never sounded more bewitching than it does today. :)