Some weeks make absolutely no sense while you’re living them.
You just keep moving from one thing to the next, wondering what the hell could possibly happen now.
And then Sunday gets here.
You look back at everything that happened over the last seven days and realize…
Oh.
Apparently the answer was a lot.
😂
This week had some really good moments.
Some really shitty ones.
A few that were both.
And several that I’m pretty sure could only happen to me.
But somewhere in the middle of all of it, I kept finding these little moments that made everything else feel a little less heavy.
A kid who’s getting way too big crawling into my lap like he still fits there perfectly.
A friend who knew when I needed somebody to listen instead of give advice.
A four-year-old noticing that one of my nails didn’t match and deciding she needed to fix it for me.
Nothing huge.
Just little things.
And apparently those are the things I carried with me the most this week.
☕ This Week’s Comfort
Monday, my kiddo at work crawled into my lap while I was sitting in the rocker.
My immediate thought was:
Awh! He wants cuddles! Sweet boy!
Nope.
Well…
Kind of.
He wrapped his hand around my throat—
and fell asleep.
🥲😂
Literally put himself to sleep.
This boy has not taken a nap at school in almost a year, aside from the occasional one when he’s sick.
I don’t know if he missed me that much while I was gone.
I don’t know if he was just exhausted.
Maybe both.
But he slept in my lap for about 45 minutes while I rocked him.
I moved his hand from my throat because, you know…
breathing.
But other than that?
I didn’t move him.
My arm fell asleep.
My legs fell asleep.
I stayed exactly where I was.
When he finally woke up, he started giggling, nuzzled into me, and stayed there for another half hour.
And somewhere in the middle of all of that, I realized something.
He’s gotten so big.
Like…
when the hell did that happen?
I remember when holding him was easy.
Picking him up was easy.
Carrying him around was easy.
Now this child is almost my height.
Granted, I’m literally five feet tall and most fifth graders are probably going to tower over me soon, but STILL.
😂
He isn’t the little baby I originally started working with anymore.
He’s growing up.
Fast.
And nobody really warns you about that part.
Did I slowly watch him grow and somehow not notice?
Did he hit some massive growth spurt while I was recovering from surgery?
When exactly did this happen?
I have questions.
And I think the universe owes me some answers.
Of course, the universe responded by making my muffler fall off my car as I was leaving work.
☠️
Because apparently we couldn’t just have a sweet Monday.
My friend from maintenance came and helped me tie it up well enough to get home, and I parked the car there for the night because my boyfriend worked late and I was NOT about to have that man crawling underneath my car at ten o’clock at night.
Then came the game of:
How the fuck am I getting to work tomorrow?
Mom could take me, but I’d be two and a half hours late.
My sister’s best friend couldn’t.
Eventually, one of my coworkers texted me around ten that night and said he could pick me up.
Problem solved.
For approximately eight hours.
Because then Tuesday happened.
💭 A Thought I’ve Been Carrying
Tuesday morning started with my mom.
I called to tell her I didn’t need the ride to work anymore.
She huffed.
“Okay.”
And hung up.
Welllllll…
OKKKKAAAAYYYYY then.
I called her back because I still needed a ride home, and she literally has to pass my house anyway.
She huffed again.
“Okay.”
I asked what was wrong.
And suddenly we were having an entire argument about me being a bad daughter, having an attitude, yelling at her…
Meanwhile, my boyfriend was in the bathroom with the door closed and could hear every word she was yelling through the phone I was holding to my ear.
Then she hung up on me.
So I called her back.
And apparently Tuesday’s theme became:
MATCHING ENERGY.
I told her if she wanted to be a rude ass bitch to me that morning, she didn’t have to worry about giving me a ride.
I didn’t need her.
Just because she’s my mom doesn’t mean she has to be part of my life.
She started to say something.
I told her I didn’t give a fuck what she had to say anymore.
And I hung up.
Yay me.
🙃
So naturally, I called my best friend to vent.
“I don’t know what to tell you. I told you so.”
…
Ma’am.
I did not call for an I-told-you-so.
Click.
😂
She texted me afterward.
I opened the messages.
Didn’t read them.
I had reached my quota.
Then another friend called me.
The first thing she said was:
“Your mom?”
YES.
MY MOM.
😂
“What happened?”
And I told her.
She didn’t tell me what I should have done.
She didn’t give me an “I told you so.”
She just listened.
By the end of the conversation, she had me smiling and giggling.
And I was okay again.
That stayed with me.
Sometimes you don’t need somebody to solve anything.
Sometimes you don’t even need advice.
Sometimes you just need somebody to let you be pissed off for a minute.
Unfortunately, the universe was not finished with Tuesday.
My doctor’s office messaged me saying my medication had been denied by insurance and that the delay was because I gave them the wrong pharmacy.
So.
Again.
MATCHING ENERGY.
I called.
I spent about an hour on the phone trying to figure out what the hell was happening.
The woman who answered offered to transfer me to the nurse who had sent the message.
I specifically said:
Absolutely not.
I was not in the mood to give that woman a piece of my mind.
Guess who she transferred me to?
That exact nurse.
“Imagine that. She transferred me to the one nurse I told her I don’t want to talk to today.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me right.”
She tried to apologize.
At that point, I didn’t want an apology.
I wanted to know what the hell was happening with my shots and what my options were now.
Then I talked to another nurse who kept interrupting me.
“Ma’am! Please do NOT interrupt me while I’m talking to you. That’s very rude.”
And then—
“Okay.”
With a huff.
THAT FUCKING HUFFED ‘OKAY.’
Apparently that was just the sound of Tuesday.
😭
Then I found out my gynecologist quit to work closer to home.
Which…
I completely understand.
Good for her.
Terrible for me.
Because I actually liked her.
Now I’m apparently being passed between the other four doctors at the practice, and I’m sorry, but the idea of four different gynecologists taking turns looking at my vagina does NOT sit right with me.
At all.
By this point, I was at work, stressed, overstimulated, playing phone tag with the doctor’s office—
and my kiddo had decided that because I was on my phone, obviously he needed to participate.
Trying to take my phone.
Putting his ear against mine.
Trying to listen.
Trying to talk.
Sir.
You are nonverbal.
This is not FaceTime.
What are you trying to accomplish here?
😭😂
I was DONE.
And then my boyfriend texted me.
I opened it.
And immediately started crying.
Happy tears this time.
He bought me two tickets to see The Pretty Reckless.
MY FAVORITE BAND.
I had already accepted that I was probably going to miss them because my first paycheck since surgery comes the day after the concert.
I’d been upset about it all month.
And on one of the shittiest mornings I’d had in a while, that man bought the tickets.
My entire fucking day changed.
I can die happy now.
Well.
After the concert.
Obviously.
😂
And if I don’t?
That man might be getting an engagement ring for Christmas because apparently I have decided I’m marrying him ASAP.
The rest of Tuesday?
Completely different day.
My kiddo was on his best behavior.
No more drama at work.
I gave him a free day, and we had fun.
My sister’s best friend picked me up.
I went home.
Showered.
Picked out my outfit for Breaking Benjamin AND my outfit for The Pretty Reckless.
And then Sissy called me.
We stayed on the phone for an hour and a half.
We barely talked.
Every once in a while, one of us would say:
“I love you.”
And then we’d go right back to whatever we were doing.
😂
She’s four.
Apparently we have already reached the stage of our relationship where neither of us needs to actually contribute anything to the phone call.
We just need to know the other one is still there.
And honestly?
I kind of love that.
My boyfriend eventually got home, and we spent the next hour and a half underneath my car trying to pull the muffler up enough for me to drive.
I had to take a second shower because I was covered in dirt.
By 9:40, I was finally ready to eat dinner and take my ass to bed.
For a crappy-ass morning?
It ended pretty nicely.
📷 Through My Lens
Wednesday morning began with one of the most horrifying situations I have ever found myself in.
You are not ready for this story.
I slept naked Tuesday night.
And when I say naked, I mean—
booty-ass fucking naked.
We did the deed.
I rolled over.
Passed the fuck out.
Fantastic ending to the night.
Then my alarm went off Wednesday morning.
I snoozed it.
And slowly…
my stomach started rumbling.
Not hunger.
No.
This was a goblin.
Something inside of me was trying to escape.
I tried to get out of bed.
I COULDN’T.
My belly ring was attached to the bed.
I’m lying on my stomach.
Ass in the air.
Completely naked.
A gastrointestinal demon is rapidly approaching the exit.
And I am physically tethered to my fucking bed by my belly button.
😭😭😭
I’m squeezing muscles I didn’t know I had.
Fighting the bed.
Trying to determine whether ripping my belly ring out would be preferable to what was about to happen.
And finally—
THE BED RELEASED ME.
I ran to the bathroom naked.
Sat down.
And…
shit started flying.
Actual shit.
From my asshole.
It wasn’t a goblin.
It was diarrhea.
😩
My stomach hurt.
I was nauseous.
I was sweating.
I didn’t know which end was going to betray me next.
I sat on that toilet for about an hour.
I never puked.
But I was prepared for war.
And somewhere in the middle of all of this, I had another horrifying realization.
Imagine if that bed hadn’t let me go.
Imagine being stuck by my belly ring while I shit all over myself.
The blankets.
The bed.
MY SLEEPING BOYFRIEND.
No.
Absolutely not.
There is no recovering from that.
I would have had to break up with him.
Move.
Change my name.
Start an entirely new life.
😭☠️
I called my mom—
YES, I KNOW.
—and asked if she had Pepto.
She didn’t.
Thankfully my boyfriend was off work, so once he woke up, he went to CVS and got me some.
I chugged it in the car.
And then I found out my niece and both nephews had the exact same stomach symptoms.
Cool.
So apparently the tummy goblin was contagious.
I called off work.
And yes.
I still went to the Breaking Benjamin concert that night.
I had disposable period underwear.
That’s basically a diaper.
We were going to be fine.
🤣
By the time we left, my stomach was still upset but nowhere near as bad.
We went to Texas Roadhouse.
I ate very little.
And realized I had forgotten the Pepto at home.
Good thing I had my diaper.
☠️😂
And then?
The concert was SO GOOD.
Kami Kehoe was better than I expected.
Starset?
WOW.
They put on such a good show. They kept my attention on that stage the entire time.
Chevelle was basically a giant blast of childhood memories I didn’t know I needed.
And, of course—
Breaking Benjamin.
Worth risking the tummy goblin.
😂
Getting home was considerably less fun.
It took almost half an hour just to get out of the venue.
We got rerouted.
Drove in circles.
And at one point my boyfriend turned into the wrong lane while another car was coming toward us.
It barely missed us.
That part was terrifying.
Once we finally got onto the interstate, I could relax.
Apparently I relaxed a little too much because I fell asleep before we got home.
Thursday was considerably quieter.
Thank fuck.
My stomach still hurt, but it was more of a leftover hurt.
No goblin.
We spent the morning cuddled up in the living room, my boyfriend in the recliner and me on the couch, watching CaRtOoNz on YouTube.
I stayed on that couch basically all day.
Worked on my blog.
Started researching my next History After Dark topic.
Got a slight headache and tried lying down in the dark.
Then my sister called.
And somehow I discovered that I apparently live in an alternate universe.
I told her:
“I asked my boyfriend if he would take me to see Practical Magic 2, and do you know what he said?”
“No?”
“Nope.”
“What’s that?”
…
WHAT’S THAT!?
Practical Magic!
🎶 You put the lime in the coconut… 🎶
MIDNIGHT MARGARITAS!?
NONE OF THIS!?
She tells me she knows the song from Daddy Daycare.
I add my best friend to the call.
SHE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT PRACTICAL MAGIC IS EITHER.
She adds one of her friends.
HE DOESN’T KNOW.
I add my sister’s best friend.
Surely SHE knows.
The movie came out in 1998.
She’s older than me.
SHE DIDN’T KNOW EITHER.
WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING!?
Is this a glitch in the Matrix?
Did I accidentally cross into another timeline?
Am I the only person left who remembers midnight margaritas!?
I have never felt so alone.
😭😂
❤️ This Week’s Gratitude
There were a lot of little things this week.
People giving me rides when my car decided it no longer required a muffler.
A friend letting me vent until I could laugh again.
My boyfriend buying me concert tickets because he knew how badly I wanted to go.
But one of my favorite little things happened Friday.
I was roughhousing with my kiddo while we waited for his bus, and he turned just right and broke one of my nails basically in half.
Now.
I have really long nails.
They are ALWAYS done.
So when I say I broke it in half, I still technically had a fingernail.
To some people?
Normal nail.
To me?
THERE WAS NO NAIL.
😭
It was basically a nub.
My finger hurt, and I’m getting a whole new set next week anyway, so I went to my nail tech and just had her cut it down.
Later, I went to my sister’s house.
Sissy saw my finger.
She asked what happened.
I told her.
And that little girl decided she was going to fix it.
She colored the nail green to match the rest.
Then she looked at it and apparently decided:
No.
Too boring.
So she added a little pink paw print.
🥹
And I know that sounds like such a tiny thing.
But my nails are always done.
They’re never just plain.
And she noticed.
She wanted it to match.
Then she wanted to give it a little extra something because she knows NeeNee’s nails aren’t boring.
She’s four.
And she noticed.
I love that kid.
😂 This Week’s “Well…That Happened.”
Oh, I have options.
SO MANY OPTIONS.
Friday morning, my kiddo came into work and immediately chose chaos.
Looked at the teacher.
Started throwing things.
Tantrum.
Cool.
It’s going to be one of those days.
Turns out?
He was tired.
Of course he was.
Later, I was playing Monopoly Go on my phone.
Yes, I was at work.
No, I’m not supposed to be on my phone.
It was Fun Friday, my kiddo was running around the classroom, and I knew exactly where he was and what he was doing.
Don’t worry about me.
😂
He came over and touched my phone.
“No.”
He walked away.
Got his speaking device.
Came back.
Pressed:
“I play.”
And looked at me.
At first I told him, “Yes, you can go play.”
Then I looked at him.
He looked at me.
…
OH.
You want to play MY game.
😂
“Okay. Come here.”
He climbed into my lap, and we played Monopoly Go together.
“One finger. Press here.”
Good job.
“Now we wait.”
Good.
“One finger. Press this one.”
Good job, buddy.
You’re doing it.
🥹
After work, I called my sister to see if the boys still wanted to stay the night.
She said yes, but Pooh Boy wouldn’t be home until around 6:30, so she asked if I wanted to wait and pick them both up together.
Fine by me.
Then I hear Doodoo in the background:
“NOOOOO!”
No?
“NOW!”
Now?
“Yeah!”
Okay.
Say less. I’m on my way.
🤣
I get there.
I’m barely through the door.
This boy comes running at me with his shoes.
I put them on.
He climbs up my leg.
Looks at his mother.
“Bye!”
Waves.
Blows her a kiss.
☠️😂
We stayed a little longer so I could love on Sissy after she finished painting her dad’s nails.
Then Doodoo, Mawmaw Nesi, and I went outside.
I looked down for approximately two seconds to text my sister.
Looked back up.
There was RED STUFF ALL OVER DOODOO’S LEG.
Internally:
OH MY GOD. BLOOD.
How are you bleeding!?
Where are you bleeding!?
Why is there so much!?
I’m investigating while trying to stay calm.
Then I notice some hanging out of his mouth around his binky.
…
“Doodoo, did you puke?”
“Puke.”
Oh.
Cool.
He had been drinking red juice.
So my nephew had apparently just spontaneously vomited all over himself outside.
That’s enough outdoor time for today.
Bath.
Immediately.
😭
Later, Pooh Boy got home.
I checked my boyfriend’s location.
Work.
I asked if he could grab Pooh Boy on the way home.
Yep.
My sister asked how far away he was.
I checked.
“Twenty-five minutes.”
She sits down on the couch.
“Cool. I can sit for a minute.”
KNOCK KNOCK.
She considers not answering because she JUST sat down and isn’t expecting anyone yet.
Maybe Pooh Boy’s grandma forgot something.
She answers.
Looks back at me through the phone.
“How long before Uncle gets here?”
“Twenty-five minutes. I just checked.”
She turns the phone toward the door.
“Uncle is here now.”
…
WHAT!?
🤣🤣🤣
Apparently I didn’t give Maps enough time to update his actual location.
My bad.
That night I went to put Pooh Boy’s pajamas on him.
First problem:
His entire butt cheek was hanging out of his diaper.
How?
Apparently his grandma had changed him before bringing him home.
This is also the woman who once put his diaper on BACKWARDS, so…
There’s that.
😂
Second problem:
The pajamas he wore at my house LAST WEEKEND no longer fit.
His belly was hanging out.
The pants didn’t cover his legs.
BRO.
You did NOT get that big in a week.
My sister just laughed and said she’d send more pajamas for my house next weekend.
They were both asleep by eight.
We LOVE an easy bedtime.
Then around two in the morning:
DONK.
Followed immediately by Pooh Boy screaming bloody murder.
I flew out of bed.
Checked his head.
No blood.
No bumps.
No obvious injury.
Apparently he had managed to headbutt the wall.
I cuddled him.
Calmed him down.
Put him back to bed.
Crisis over.
For that night.
Because Saturday night?
Saturday night that child declared war on sleep.
He didn’t go down easily to begin with.
He was yelling and playing until ten.
Then at ONE IN THE MORNING, he woke up.
And from one until after four, it was:
Up.
Down.
Spin.
Spin.
Spin.
Yell.
Giggle.
Throw things.
Smack the bed.
Run around the pack-n-play.
Headbutt the wall.
Scream.
Giggle some more.
Climb underneath the pillows.
Climb underneath the blankets.
Climb underneath the MAT in the pack-n-play.
Reach over and try to pull the blanket off of us.
FROM ONE UNTIL AFTER FOUR IN THE FUCKING MORNING.
I finally started dozing around four because he had managed to stay quiet for longer than three minutes.
I could still hear him moving.
Still giggling.
I have no idea what time he actually went back to sleep.
Do you know what time he woke up?
EIGHT.
WHY!?
😩😩😩
Meanwhile, Doodoo had been super clingy Saturday.
He’d puked Friday.
He slept for hours Saturday morning.
And the rest of the day, he basically wanted to become part of my body.
Arms around me.
Legs around me.
Holding on for dear life.
If I put him down?
Throw himself backward.
Stomp.
Run straight back at me.
Cling again.
Cry.
Okay.
Okay.
Come here.
🥲
So we spent most of Saturday cuddled in the recliner watching Jurassic World.
My best friend who moved out of state was also back for the weekend because she finally got an apartment and came with a U-Haul to get the rest of her things.
Naturally, being the wonderful best friend she is, she came to visit me.
Well…
“Visit me” might be generous.
🤣
She’s gained a little weight, so we spent approximately an hour playing dress-up in my dresses.
She LOVES my dresses, but most of them have always been too big on her.
Because I have huge-ass boobs.
And hers are basically nonexistent.
Yes, I know you read these posts. Hi. Love you. 🤣
But now she can fit some of them, so she finally got to try on a bunch she’s been wanting to wear.
And every single time she came out in another dress, Doodoo was sitting there going:
“BlahBlah! That’s pretty!”
😭😂
Maybe this is where it starts.
Women spend their childhoods watching other women try on dresses while everyone around them goes:
“Ooooooh! That’s so pretty!”
Then adulthood arrives and we’re fully trained.
Friend comes out of dressing room.
Automatic response:
“THAT’S SO PRETTY.”
Doodoo is simply getting an early education.
Sunday morning, after approximately seventeen minutes of sleep—
Okay.
Slight exaggeration.
But that’s what it felt like.
I got up with Pooh Boy and went to the bathroom.
I had to poop.
He decided I was not allowed to do that alone.
Fine.
Whatever.
At least I was the only one awake.
While I’m sitting there, I hear the bed moving.
Then little feet running across the floor.
Bedroom door opens.
More little feet.
I open the bathroom door.
Doodoo comes running in.
Stops.
Smiles.
“Hi!”
“Were you a big boy?”
“Yeah!”
“Did you wake up, get off the bed, and come find me all by yourself?”
“Yeah!”
He spends the rest of my bathroom trip hugging and lying on my leg.
Awh.
My big boy.
🥹
We come out.
Uncle is sitting in the recliner.
“Uncle! Doodoo said he was a big boy and did all of that by himself this morning!”
My boyfriend looks at me.
“That little motherfucker lied!”
☠️☠️☠️
Apparently Doodoo had woken him up by karate chopping him in the throat and yelling:
“UNCLE!”
Then:
“UP!”
My boyfriend got him out of bed.
So the only thing this child actually accomplished independently that morning was assaulting his uncle.
🤣🤣🤣
Sir.
Why did you lie directly to my face?
Later, I took Doodoo home.
Sissy was having a VERY difficult time listening to her mom.
Like…
at all.
So I talked to her about listening and told her that if she couldn’t listen to her mom, I was taking all of the princess stuff she got that day home with me.
She could earn it back.
She apologized to her mom.
And then immediately went back to not listening.
🫠
Okay.
“Get your shoes on. You’re going home with me.”
TEARS.
Suddenly we remembered how listening works.
😂
She apologized again.
I gave her one more chance.
She was still listening when I left, so she didn’t have to come home with me.
Princess privileges maintained.
I finally got home.
And my boyfriend was sitting in the middle of the living room floor surrounded by all of our clothes.
Great.
Laundry.
I was going to shower first.
Apparently not.
😂
We finished the laundry.
I showered.
He went to play PalWorld with his best friend.
And I went into the bedroom.
Then I sent him a text:
“I know you’re gaming, but do you want to come see if I participated in No Shave September? lol”
Y’all.
That man came running into that bedroom so fucking fast.
🤣🤣🤣
I knew exactly what I was doing.
🥵
And now it’s Sunday evening.
The kids are home.
The laundry is done.
I’m showered.
My boyfriend is playing PalWorld with his friend.
And I’m on the couch.
Not moving.
Not answering any summons.
Not fixing anything.
Not crawling underneath a car.
And hopefully not being attacked by any more stomach goblins.
😂
I’m tired.
Very tired.
But it was a good week.
Not an easy one.
Definitely not a quiet one.
But a good one.
There were concerts and cuddles and dinosaurs and people who showed up when I needed them.
There were also bodily fluids, broken car parts, a broken nail, approximately three hours of sleep, and a shocking number of incidents involving somebody’s throat.
Balance.
😂
And right now?
The couch is comfortable.
Everybody is where they’re supposed to be.
I have nowhere else I need to go.
I’ll take it.
Until next time,
—Destiny
P.S. What was the most completely unhinged thing that happened in your week? Because I feel like I’ve set the bar pretty high this time. 😂
Some weeks make absolutely no sense while you’re living them.
You just keep moving from one thing to the next, wondering what the hell could possibly happen now.
And then Sunday gets here.
You look back at everything that happened over the last seven days and realize…
Oh.
Apparently the answer was a lot.
😂
This week had some really good moments.
Some really shitty ones.
A few that were both.
And several that I’m pretty sure could only happen to me.
But somewhere in the middle of all of it, I kept finding these little moments that made everything else feel a little less heavy.
A kid who’s getting way too big crawling into my lap like he still fits there perfectly.
A friend who knew when I needed somebody to listen instead of give advice.
A four-year-old noticing that one of my nails didn’t match and deciding she needed to fix it for me.
Nothing huge.
Just little things.
And apparently those are the things I carried with me the most this week.
☕ This Week’s Comfort
Monday, my kiddo at work crawled into my lap while I was sitting in the rocker.
My immediate thought was:
Awh! He wants cuddles! Sweet boy!
Nope.
Well…
Kind of.
He wrapped his hand around my throat—
and fell asleep.
🥲😂
Literally put himself to sleep.
This boy has not taken a nap at school in almost a year, aside from the occasional one when he’s sick.
I don’t know if he missed me that much while I was gone.
I don’t know if he was just exhausted.
Maybe both.
But he slept in my lap for about 45 minutes while I rocked him.
I moved his hand from my throat because, you know…
breathing.
But other than that?
I didn’t move him.
My arm fell asleep.
My legs fell asleep.
I stayed exactly where I was.
When he finally woke up, he started giggling, nuzzled into me, and stayed there for another half hour.
And somewhere in the middle of all of that, I realized something.
He’s gotten so big.
Like…
when the hell did that happen?
I remember when holding him was easy.
Picking him up was easy.
Carrying him around was easy.
Now this child is almost my height.
Granted, I’m literally five feet tall and most fifth graders are probably going to tower over me soon, but STILL.
😂
He isn’t the little baby I originally started working with anymore.
He’s growing up.
Fast.
And nobody really warns you about that part.
Did I slowly watch him grow and somehow not notice?
Did he hit some massive growth spurt while I was recovering from surgery?
When exactly did this happen?
I have questions.
And I think the universe owes me some answers.
Of course, the universe responded by making my muffler fall off my car as I was leaving work.
☠️
Because apparently we couldn’t just have a sweet Monday.
My friend from maintenance came and helped me tie it up well enough to get home, and I parked the car there for the night because my boyfriend worked late and I was NOT about to have that man crawling underneath my car at ten o’clock at night.
Then came the game of:
How the fuck am I getting to work tomorrow?
Mom could take me, but I’d be two and a half hours late.
My sister’s best friend couldn’t.
Eventually, one of my coworkers texted me around ten that night and said he could pick me up.
Problem solved.
For approximately eight hours.
Because then Tuesday happened.
💭 A Thought I’ve Been Carrying
Tuesday morning started with my mom.
I called to tell her I didn’t need the ride to work anymore.
She huffed.
“Okay.”
And hung up.
Welllllll…
OKKKKAAAAYYYYY then.
I called her back because I still needed a ride home, and she literally has to pass my house anyway.
She huffed again.
“Okay.”
I asked what was wrong.
And suddenly we were having an entire argument about me being a bad daughter, having an attitude, yelling at her…
Meanwhile, my boyfriend was in the bathroom with the door closed and could hear every word she was yelling through the phone I was holding to my ear.
Then she hung up on me.
So I called her back.
And apparently Tuesday’s theme became:
MATCHING ENERGY.
I told her if she wanted to be a rude ass bitch to me that morning, she didn’t have to worry about giving me a ride.
I didn’t need her.
Just because she’s my mom doesn’t mean she has to be part of my life.
She started to say something.
I told her I didn’t give a fuck what she had to say anymore.
And I hung up.
Yay me.
🙃
So naturally, I called my best friend to vent.
“I don’t know what to tell you. I told you so.”
…
Ma’am.
I did not call for an I-told-you-so.
Click.
😂
She texted me afterward.
I opened the messages.
Didn’t read them.
I had reached my quota.
Then another friend called me.
The first thing she said was:
“Your mom?”
YES.
MY MOM.
😂
“What happened?”
And I told her.
She didn’t tell me what I should have done.
She didn’t give me an “I told you so.”
She just listened.
By the end of the conversation, she had me smiling and giggling.
And I was okay again.
That stayed with me.
Sometimes you don’t need somebody to solve anything.
Sometimes you don’t even need advice.
Sometimes you just need somebody to let you be pissed off for a minute.
Unfortunately, the universe was not finished with Tuesday.
My doctor’s office messaged me saying my medication had been denied by insurance and that the delay was because I gave them the wrong pharmacy.
So.
Again.
MATCHING ENERGY.
I called.
I spent about an hour on the phone trying to figure out what the hell was happening.
The woman who answered offered to transfer me to the nurse who had sent the message.
I specifically said:
Absolutely not.
I was not in the mood to give that woman a piece of my mind.
Guess who she transferred me to?
That exact nurse.
“Imagine that. She transferred me to the one nurse I told her I don’t want to talk to today.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me right.”
She tried to apologize.
At that point, I didn’t want an apology.
I wanted to know what the hell was happening with my shots and what my options were now.
Then I talked to another nurse who kept interrupting me.
“Ma’am! Please do NOT interrupt me while I’m talking to you. That’s very rude.”
And then—
“Okay.”
With a huff.
THAT FUCKING HUFFED ‘OKAY.’
Apparently that was just the sound of Tuesday.
😭
Then I found out my gynecologist quit to work closer to home.
Which…
I completely understand.
Good for her.
Terrible for me.
Because I actually liked her.
Now I’m apparently being passed between the other four doctors at the practice, and I’m sorry, but the idea of four different gynecologists taking turns looking at my vagina does NOT sit right with me.
At all.
By this point, I was at work, stressed, overstimulated, playing phone tag with the doctor’s office—
and my kiddo had decided that because I was on my phone, obviously he needed to participate.
Trying to take my phone.
Putting his ear against mine.
Trying to listen.
Trying to talk.
Sir.
You are nonverbal.
This is not FaceTime.
What are you trying to accomplish here?
😭😂
I was DONE.
And then my boyfriend texted me.
I opened it.
And immediately started crying.
Happy tears this time.
He bought me two tickets to see The Pretty Reckless.
MY FAVORITE BAND.
I had already accepted that I was probably going to miss them because my first paycheck since surgery comes the day after the concert.
I’d been upset about it all month.
And on one of the shittiest mornings I’d had in a while, that man bought the tickets.
My entire fucking day changed.
I can die happy now.
Well.
After the concert.
Obviously.
😂
And if I don’t?
That man might be getting an engagement ring for Christmas because apparently I have decided I’m marrying him ASAP.
The rest of Tuesday?
Completely different day.
My kiddo was on his best behavior.
No more drama at work.
I gave him a free day, and we had fun.
My sister’s best friend picked me up.
I went home.
Showered.
Picked out my outfit for Breaking Benjamin AND my outfit for The Pretty Reckless.
And then Sissy called me.
We stayed on the phone for an hour and a half.
We barely talked.
Every once in a while, one of us would say:
“I love you.”
And then we’d go right back to whatever we were doing.
😂
She’s four.
Apparently we have already reached the stage of our relationship where neither of us needs to actually contribute anything to the phone call.
We just need to know the other one is still there.
And honestly?
I kind of love that.
My boyfriend eventually got home, and we spent the next hour and a half underneath my car trying to pull the muffler up enough for me to drive.
I had to take a second shower because I was covered in dirt.
By 9:40, I was finally ready to eat dinner and take my ass to bed.
For a crappy-ass morning?
It ended pretty nicely.
📷 Through My Lens
Wednesday morning began with one of the most horrifying situations I have ever found myself in.
You are not ready for this story.
I slept naked Tuesday night.
And when I say naked, I mean—
booty-ass fucking naked.
We did the deed.
I rolled over.
Passed the fuck out.
Fantastic ending to the night.
Then my alarm went off Wednesday morning.
I snoozed it.
And slowly…
my stomach started rumbling.
Not hunger.
No.
This was a goblin.
Something inside of me was trying to escape.
I tried to get out of bed.
I COULDN’T.
My belly ring was attached to the bed.
I’m lying on my stomach.
Ass in the air.
Completely naked.
A gastrointestinal demon is rapidly approaching the exit.
And I am physically tethered to my fucking bed by my belly button.
😭😭😭
I’m squeezing muscles I didn’t know I had.
Fighting the bed.
Trying to determine whether ripping my belly ring out would be preferable to what was about to happen.
And finally—
THE BED RELEASED ME.
I ran to the bathroom naked.
Sat down.
And…
shit started flying.
Actual shit.
From my asshole.
It wasn’t a goblin.
It was diarrhea.
😩
My stomach hurt.
I was nauseous.
I was sweating.
I didn’t know which end was going to betray me next.
I sat on that toilet for about an hour.
I never puked.
But I was prepared for war.
And somewhere in the middle of all of this, I had another horrifying realization.
Imagine if that bed hadn’t let me go.
Imagine being stuck by my belly ring while I shit all over myself.
The blankets.
The bed.
MY SLEEPING BOYFRIEND.
No.
Absolutely not.
There is no recovering from that.
I would have had to break up with him.
Move.
Change my name.
Start an entirely new life.
😭☠️
I called my mom—
YES, I KNOW.
—and asked if she had Pepto.
She didn’t.
Thankfully my boyfriend was off work, so once he woke up, he went to CVS and got me some.
I chugged it in the car.
And then I found out my niece and both nephews had the exact same stomach symptoms.
Cool.
So apparently the tummy goblin was contagious.
I called off work.
And yes.
I still went to the Breaking Benjamin concert that night.
I had disposable period underwear.
That’s basically a diaper.
We were going to be fine.
🤣
By the time we left, my stomach was still upset but nowhere near as bad.
We went to Texas Roadhouse.
I ate very little.
And realized I had forgotten the Pepto at home.
Good thing I had my diaper.
☠️😂
And then?
The concert was SO GOOD.
Kami Kehoe was better than I expected.
Starset?
WOW.
They put on such a good show. They kept my attention on that stage the entire time.
Chevelle was basically a giant blast of childhood memories I didn’t know I needed.
And, of course—
Breaking Benjamin.
Worth risking the tummy goblin.
😂
Getting home was considerably less fun.
It took almost half an hour just to get out of the venue.
We got rerouted.
Drove in circles.
And at one point my boyfriend turned into the wrong lane while another car was coming toward us.
It barely missed us.
That part was terrifying.
Once we finally got onto the interstate, I could relax.
Apparently I relaxed a little too much because I fell asleep before we got home.
Thursday was considerably quieter.
Thank fuck.
My stomach still hurt, but it was more of a leftover hurt.
No goblin.
We spent the morning cuddled up in the living room, my boyfriend in the recliner and me on the couch, watching CaRtOoNz on YouTube.
I stayed on that couch basically all day.
Worked on my blog.
Started researching my next History After Dark topic.
Got a slight headache and tried lying down in the dark.
Then my sister called.
And somehow I discovered that I apparently live in an alternate universe.
I told her:
“I asked my boyfriend if he would take me to see Practical Magic 2, and do you know what he said?”
“No?”
“Nope.”
“What’s that?”
…
WHAT’S THAT!?
Practical Magic!
🎶 You put the lime in the coconut… 🎶
MIDNIGHT MARGARITAS!?
NONE OF THIS!?
She tells me she knows the song from Daddy Daycare.
I add my best friend to the call.
SHE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT PRACTICAL MAGIC IS EITHER.
She adds one of her friends.
HE DOESN’T KNOW.
I add my sister’s best friend.
Surely SHE knows.
The movie came out in 1998.
She’s older than me.
SHE DIDN’T KNOW EITHER.
WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING!?
Is this a glitch in the Matrix?
Did I accidentally cross into another timeline?
Am I the only person left who remembers midnight margaritas!?
I have never felt so alone.
😭😂
❤️ This Week’s Gratitude
There were a lot of little things this week.
People giving me rides when my car decided it no longer required a muffler.
A friend letting me vent until I could laugh again.
My boyfriend buying me concert tickets because he knew how badly I wanted to go.
But one of my favorite little things happened Friday.
I was roughhousing with my kiddo while we waited for his bus, and he turned just right and broke one of my nails basically in half.
Now.
I have really long nails.
They are ALWAYS done.
So when I say I broke it in half, I still technically had a fingernail.
To some people?
Normal nail.
To me?
THERE WAS NO NAIL.
😭
It was basically a nub.
My finger hurt, and I’m getting a whole new set next week anyway, so I went to my nail tech and just had her cut it down.
Later, I went to my sister’s house.
Sissy saw my finger.
She asked what happened.
I told her.
And that little girl decided she was going to fix it.
She colored the nail green to match the rest.
Then she looked at it and apparently decided:
No.
Too boring.
So she added a little pink paw print.
🥹
And I know that sounds like such a tiny thing.
But my nails are always done.
They’re never just plain.
And she noticed.
She wanted it to match.
Then she wanted to give it a little extra something because she knows NeeNee’s nails aren’t boring.
She’s four.
And she noticed.
I love that kid.
😂 This Week’s “Well…That Happened.”
Oh, I have options.
SO MANY OPTIONS.
Friday morning, my kiddo came into work and immediately chose chaos.
Looked at the teacher.
Started throwing things.
Tantrum.
Cool.
It’s going to be one of those days.
Turns out?
He was tired.
Of course he was.
Later, I was playing Monopoly Go on my phone.
Yes, I was at work.
No, I’m not supposed to be on my phone.
It was Fun Friday, my kiddo was running around the classroom, and I knew exactly where he was and what he was doing.
Don’t worry about me.
😂
He came over and touched my phone.
“No.”
He walked away.
Got his speaking device.
Came back.
Pressed:
“I play.”
And looked at me.
At first I told him, “Yes, you can go play.”
Then I looked at him.
He looked at me.
…
OH.
You want to play MY game.
😂
“Okay. Come here.”
He climbed into my lap, and we played Monopoly Go together.
“One finger. Press here.”
Good job.
“Now we wait.”
Good.
“One finger. Press this one.”
Good job, buddy.
You’re doing it.
🥹
After work, I called my sister to see if the boys still wanted to stay the night.
She said yes, but Pooh Boy wouldn’t be home until around 6:30, so she asked if I wanted to wait and pick them both up together.
Fine by me.
Then I hear Doodoo in the background:
“NOOOOO!”
No?
“NOW!”
Now?
“Yeah!”
Okay.
Say less. I’m on my way.
🤣
I get there.
I’m barely through the door.
This boy comes running at me with his shoes.
I put them on.
He climbs up my leg.
Looks at his mother.
“Bye!”
Waves.
Blows her a kiss.
☠️😂
We stayed a little longer so I could love on Sissy after she finished painting her dad’s nails.
Then Doodoo, Mawmaw Nesi, and I went outside.
I looked down for approximately two seconds to text my sister.
Looked back up.
There was RED STUFF ALL OVER DOODOO’S LEG.
Internally:
OH MY GOD. BLOOD.
How are you bleeding!?
Where are you bleeding!?
Why is there so much!?
I’m investigating while trying to stay calm.
Then I notice some hanging out of his mouth around his binky.
…
“Doodoo, did you puke?”
“Puke.”
Oh.
Cool.
He had been drinking red juice.
So my nephew had apparently just spontaneously vomited all over himself outside.
That’s enough outdoor time for today.
Bath.
Immediately.
😭
Later, Pooh Boy got home.
I checked my boyfriend’s location.
Work.
I asked if he could grab Pooh Boy on the way home.
Yep.
My sister asked how far away he was.
I checked.
“Twenty-five minutes.”
She sits down on the couch.
“Cool. I can sit for a minute.”
KNOCK KNOCK.
She considers not answering because she JUST sat down and isn’t expecting anyone yet.
Maybe Pooh Boy’s grandma forgot something.
She answers.
Looks back at me through the phone.
“How long before Uncle gets here?”
“Twenty-five minutes. I just checked.”
She turns the phone toward the door.
“Uncle is here now.”
…
WHAT!?
🤣🤣🤣
Apparently I didn’t give Maps enough time to update his actual location.
My bad.
That night I went to put Pooh Boy’s pajamas on him.
First problem:
His entire butt cheek was hanging out of his diaper.
How?
Apparently his grandma had changed him before bringing him home.
This is also the woman who once put his diaper on BACKWARDS, so…
There’s that.
😂
Second problem:
The pajamas he wore at my house LAST WEEKEND no longer fit.
His belly was hanging out.
The pants didn’t cover his legs.
BRO.
You did NOT get that big in a week.
My sister just laughed and said she’d send more pajamas for my house next weekend.
They were both asleep by eight.
We LOVE an easy bedtime.
Then around two in the morning:
DONK.
Followed immediately by Pooh Boy screaming bloody murder.
I flew out of bed.
Checked his head.
No blood.
No bumps.
No obvious injury.
Apparently he had managed to headbutt the wall.
I cuddled him.
Calmed him down.
Put him back to bed.
Crisis over.
For that night.
Because Saturday night?
Saturday night that child declared war on sleep.
He didn’t go down easily to begin with.
He was yelling and playing until ten.
Then at ONE IN THE MORNING, he woke up.
And from one until after four, it was:
Up.
Down.
Spin.
Spin.
Spin.
Yell.
Giggle.
Throw things.
Smack the bed.
Run around the pack-n-play.
Headbutt the wall.
Scream.
Giggle some more.
Climb underneath the pillows.
Climb underneath the blankets.
Climb underneath the MAT in the pack-n-play.
Reach over and try to pull the blanket off of us.
FROM ONE UNTIL AFTER FOUR IN THE FUCKING MORNING.
I finally started dozing around four because he had managed to stay quiet for longer than three minutes.
I could still hear him moving.
Still giggling.
I have no idea what time he actually went back to sleep.
Do you know what time he woke up?
EIGHT.
WHY!?
😩😩😩
Meanwhile, Doodoo had been super clingy Saturday.
He’d puked Friday.
He slept for hours Saturday morning.
And the rest of the day, he basically wanted to become part of my body.
Arms around me.
Legs around me.
Holding on for dear life.
If I put him down?
Throw himself backward.
Stomp.
Run straight back at me.
Cling again.
Cry.
Okay.
Okay.
Come here.
🥲
So we spent most of Saturday cuddled in the recliner watching Jurassic World.
My best friend who moved out of state was also back for the weekend because she finally got an apartment and came with a U-Haul to get the rest of her things.
Naturally, being the wonderful best friend she is, she came to visit me.
Well…
“Visit me” might be generous.
🤣
She’s gained a little weight, so we spent approximately an hour playing dress-up in my dresses.
She LOVES my dresses, but most of them have always been too big on her.
Because I have huge-ass boobs.
And hers are basically nonexistent.
Yes, I know you read these posts. Hi. Love you. 🤣
But now she can fit some of them, so she finally got to try on a bunch she’s been wanting to wear.
And every single time she came out in another dress, Doodoo was sitting there going:
“BlahBlah! That’s pretty!”
😭😂
Maybe this is where it starts.
Women spend their childhoods watching other women try on dresses while everyone around them goes:
“Ooooooh! That’s so pretty!”
Then adulthood arrives and we’re fully trained.
Friend comes out of dressing room.
Automatic response:
“THAT’S SO PRETTY.”
Doodoo is simply getting an early education.
Sunday morning, after approximately seventeen minutes of sleep—
Okay.
Slight exaggeration.
But that’s what it felt like.
I got up with Pooh Boy and went to the bathroom.
I had to poop.
He decided I was not allowed to do that alone.
Fine.
Whatever.
At least I was the only one awake.
While I’m sitting there, I hear the bed moving.
Then little feet running across the floor.
Bedroom door opens.
More little feet.
I open the bathroom door.
Doodoo comes running in.
Stops.
Smiles.
“Hi!”
“Were you a big boy?”
“Yeah!”
“Did you wake up, get off the bed, and come find me all by yourself?”
“Yeah!”
He spends the rest of my bathroom trip hugging and lying on my leg.
Awh.
My big boy.
🥹
We come out.
Uncle is sitting in the recliner.
“Uncle! Doodoo said he was a big boy and did all of that by himself this morning!”
My boyfriend looks at me.
“That little motherfucker lied!”
☠️☠️☠️
Apparently Doodoo had woken him up by karate chopping him in the throat and yelling:
“UNCLE!”
Then:
“UP!”
My boyfriend got him out of bed.
So the only thing this child actually accomplished independently that morning was assaulting his uncle.
🤣🤣🤣
Sir.
Why did you lie directly to my face?
Later, I took Doodoo home.
Sissy was having a VERY difficult time listening to her mom.
Like…
at all.
So I talked to her about listening and told her that if she couldn’t listen to her mom, I was taking all of the princess stuff she got that day home with me.
She could earn it back.
She apologized to her mom.
And then immediately went back to not listening.
🫠
Okay.
“Get your shoes on. You’re going home with me.”
TEARS.
Suddenly we remembered how listening works.
😂
She apologized again.
I gave her one more chance.
She was still listening when I left, so she didn’t have to come home with me.
Princess privileges maintained.
I finally got home.
And my boyfriend was sitting in the middle of the living room floor surrounded by all of our clothes.
Great.
Laundry.
I was going to shower first.
Apparently not.
😂
We finished the laundry.
I showered.
He went to play PalWorld with his best friend.
And I went into the bedroom.
Then I sent him a text:
“I know you’re gaming, but do you want to come see if I participated in No Shave September? lol”
Y’all.
That man came running into that bedroom so fucking fast.
🤣🤣🤣
I knew exactly what I was doing.
🥵
And now it’s Sunday evening.
The kids are home.
The laundry is done.
I’m showered.
My boyfriend is playing PalWorld with his friend.
And I’m on the couch.
Not moving.
Not answering any summons.
Not fixing anything.
Not crawling underneath a car.
And hopefully not being attacked by any more stomach goblins.
😂
I’m tired.
Very tired.
But it was a good week.
Not an easy one.
Definitely not a quiet one.
But a good one.
There were concerts and cuddles and dinosaurs and people who showed up when I needed them.
There were also bodily fluids, broken car parts, a broken nail, approximately three hours of sleep, and a shocking number of incidents involving somebody’s throat.
Balance.
😂
And right now?
The couch is comfortable.
Everybody is where they’re supposed to be.
I have nowhere else I need to go.
I’ll take it.
Until next time,
—Destiny
P.S. What was the most completely unhinged thing that happened in your week? Because I feel like I’ve set the bar pretty high this time. 😂
destinylaharris 