Wherein I Accomplish Nothing

I was thinking this morning (about 3:45 this morning, actually) that I post way too much about my kids, and being their mom. So I tried very hard to come up with something completely different.

It got me nowhere, possibly because it WAS 3:45 in the morning.

Okay, so that’s not entirely true. I thought of a lot of things, all entirely unrelated to children and mommyhood, but after a lot of coffee, I realized, “Who wants to read about my opinion on…anything…when I can barely string together a sentence that makes sense?”

Evidently, I don’t really care, because here I am making a whole lot of no sense at anyone daring to muddle through this.

Sorry.

And then I put the kibosh on an entire post I’d written in my head involving not much else besides the proper procedure for snow removal and how much I want a pet giraffe.

I’d name him Elmer, in case you’re curious. And yes, it would be a boy giraffe, because in my experience, boy pets are the best pets. Girls are too…too…well, I’ve never had a female pet that I really liked. Probably our mood swings have been too similar and you know how a lot of times, when someone is JUST LIKE YOU, you somehow don’t really like them?

…what does that say about me, eh? Yeah, don’t answer that.

Oh, snap, I lied. I had a dog that I really liked. A girl, yes. My parents stole her and won’t give her back, though.

NOTE: That’s not true. Well, it’s true that they won’t give her back, but they didn’t steal her. I had to leave my doggy with them when I moved out, and it didn’t make sense to take her back because by then, she liked being with my parents, and they liked having her.

Dammit.

And now I’m stuck with one psycho kitten that really ought to be locked up for her own and everyone else’s safety (true story, we had her spayed a few weeks ago and the vet assistant refused to touch the cat to get her out of the cage, because this cat, as I said, is a psycho), one demon cat from hell, and one cat that seems totally out of place around here and throws up all over my house.

I put up with her puking because she’s the only cat we have who isn’t plotting my death. Or, more likely, she’s just being way less obvious about it.

I hate cats.

I also hate boxelder bugs, which I’ve been finding in my bathroom at random intervals all winter long. WHERE ARE THEY HIDING?! WHERE ARE THEY GETTING IN THROUGH?!

It occurs to me that I could solve so many of my problems with a flame thrower.

Overkill?

Absolutely, but talk about fun.

ANYWAY, my point is (oh yes, there’s a point), do I really want to be a mommy blog? I don’t even remember where I started this whole thing out. Probably I had grand plans, was going to DO things and then write about them. Cakes, maybe. Yes, I would write about cake. It’s an important part of my life.

And yet, strangely enough, my kiddos seem to be just a little bit MORE important than cake.

I guess that’s how you know you’ve crossed over from being just another house wife into Real Mommy Territory. By where cake ranks on your list of priorities.

Oh, I am totally posting this load of crap.