Sometimes I really enjoy what I do. Days like today, notsomuch, but at least tomorrow’s paper will feature two of my favorite ladies in the world, Dara and Christa.

I wrote about Dara shaking things up in the library, bringing them out of the Victorian era and into the 1950s. It’s 2010 and they’re finally going automated. I KNOW. And just to prove how bold she REALLY is, she’s trying to extend the library’s hours; they’re currently open 1-5 p.m. Monday through Friday and 9 a.m. to noon on Saturday. I’ll share the PDF, I promise. The above photo didn’t make the cut – too pretentious. lol.

My column this week is about Christa and her family and how they made lemonade after being dealt lemons. Even though their home flooded two months ago, they’ve experience more gains than losses, which is truly inspirational.

But today was hellacious. Really, really horrible. I spent 14 hours at work today. I got the children up and dressed and to school by 7 a.m. or so. I drove to work and ate my breakfast, complained about being interrupted, then got to work. It’s hard to explain production day. We’re busy non-stop, trying to meet our deadline with a skeleton crew. It’s stressful and ridiculous and today was over the top.

I was complaining about CONSTANTLY being interrupted, especially for the most mundane of reasons, and almost screamed when I had been interrupted THREE TIMES by 8:19. THREE TIMES! I can’t get my work done if I have to constantly STOP.

I had to leave to pick the children up by 5 p.m. Darin and my mom were out of town, so I didn’t have a choice but to bring them back to the office with me. And they were HORRIBLE! In public they pretty much behave themselves, but OH.MY.GOODNESS were they acting UP today! My mom happened to drive by (she’d just flown in and was on her way home) and took the kids to her house. An hour and a half later, at 9:30 p.m., I finally got off! By the time we got home and I got the children in bed, it was 11 p.m.

This is why I’m late with my blog. And I’ve been writing all day, which is the reason this blog is so lame. I’m sorry. I just don’t have the motivation today; getting the paper out on Wednesdays drains me (especially the writer in me).

Can you believe it’s already June 30? I realized this weekend that the blogging challenge is already nearly over (and will be here in about 45 minutes) and I couldn’t believe how quickly it passed. Doesn’t seem like it’s been a month, but according to the calendar it has.

I had every intention of posting this before midnight, but tonight I failed. I tried, but being a good friend came first. My co-worker got off even later than I did – just before midnight – and because she lives an hour away I offered her my couch. She was at work before I was today and gets up before dawn, so I knew was was ridiculously tired and not in the mood to drive all the way home, get in bed for a handful of hours or less, then drive another hour back down.

We rarely have guests, especially overnight guests, so it was fun to sit up and chit-chat about work through our delirium.

We’re having a meeting with the boss in the morning and I’m thinking I might take a few shots before we leave. After being really, really late with the paper, it’s not gonna be pretty. But oh well, at least I was able to share a little bit of two people I hold dear!

Holla. See you in July (oh, wait).

Today was kind of a bad day.

Mother Nature likes to take her wrath out on me, I’ve decided. She tortures me via my reproductive system. To the point of tears sometimes, which is saying a lot because I have a high pain threshold.

Also, I slipped on the ice and busted my already-bruised and swollen knees. Twice.

The dog didn’t want to come inside the house, so that made me furious. I called Darin on my way to work/school so I could vent and we ended up in a yelling match. Always a nice start to the day, let me tell you.

When I got to work I took enough Tylenol and Ibuprofen to equal the strength of a narcotic. My pain went from my ovaries to my brain. It hurt. Badly.

But I had homemade cinnamon rolls for breakfast, courtesy of a co-worker and his wife (awesome!).

I worked through my usual lunch break because I had to take Jaylen to the neurologist for a consult. He was diagnosed with migraines and scheduled for an EEG next week. Thankfully, he doesn’t get them very often lately. His neuro also suggested I may have them too and said that 97 percent of all sinus and tension headaches are actually mis-diagnosed migraines. I like her.

Jaylen was thirsty, so we stopped by Burger King on the way back to school. I wanted lunch, he wanted chocolate milk. We also left with orange juice for Jaiden and apple fries for the both of them.

Took Jaylen back to school. Took one last bite of my sandwich as we pulled in and got a strand of hair stuck between my teeth. And it wasn’t mine.

Pain came back. Blah.

Had to work late. It’s Wednesday, our production day, and I have to do the website, my ‘second job’ for which I do not actually get compensated.

Husband and stepdaughter stop by. I kiss them and send them with chocolate for the other kids. I miss them.

Husband calls me back later, asks me what to do with the chicken I told him to grill. Um, cover it in barbeque sauce and grill it?

Got ready to leave about 8 p.m. Breaking news comes in. I turn the story, upload it with pictures. Husband calls and asks me to print off some tax forms. He doesn’t do taxes online. I print them, then get back to uploading the story.

I finally leave.

I get to the next town and realize I’ve left the forms on the printer. D’oh. So I turn around and go back, get the forms and head back home. It’s 9 p.m.

When I get home the kids are already sleeping. Sigh. There is half a cold chicken breast and one pineapple slice waiting for me. I kiss the children, Jenna smiles and asks for her mommy and I return to the kitchen. I pick at the chicken breast, then eat a bowl of generic Apple Jacks while watching Ghost Hunters re-runs.

Husband is staying up late – it’s 10: 17 p.m. – inputting things like wages and tips into specified fields on the 1040A. Boring.

It’s not been a complete bust, but I’m hoping tomorrow will be a lot better.

Lately I feel like I’m not good at anything.

I can cook, but it’s nothing special.

I can take photos, but I’m nothing special.

I can write, but not well enough.

I can blog, and have been doing so for more than 8 years, but I have never, ever, ever won or been nominated for any type of award. I don’t make money with my website (I’m trying – I’ve earned 63 cents this month and have 20 Swag Bucks). I don’t have a legion of fans.

I’m a mother, but am I a good mother? The daughter that I bragged about yesterday brought home several Fs on her progress report.

My husband has so many complaints, like the fact that I hate going to bed at 10 p.m., and I feel like I’m not a good wife.

I don’t feel like a good enough friend.

I never finished college, so I feel like I’m not living up to my potential. And I have so little time right now, it’s almost impossible to go back.

I know I’m no good at keeping up with the housework, the laundry, that kind of thing. I suck at saving money. I also kind of suck at making money (but I make decent pay for this area).

When a bunch of people get together – family or friends – I constantly get picked on. I talk too much, veer off the topic or the task too often, I’m not funny or cool and I’m kind of weird a little bit. I’m also a Democrat.

It’s okay to be mediocre. This is what I want my children to learn. But there has to be something I’m good at, other than being me, right? Am I the only one who ever feels like this sometimes?

Remember my awful day yesterday? This morning was so much worse.

I was up until about midnight last night working, then again about 4 a.m. with the eerie roll of thunder . In January. How weird is that? Anyway, I was up for about 45 minutes to an hour. Jaiden woke up, scared. Everyone else in the house continued snoozing, though.

We woke up at 6:30 a.m. and carried on with our normal routine. Our little girls woke with giggles (Jenna) and groans (Emma) and got dressed downstairs. Darin got dressed and let Maddi out, filled her bowl and Pippa’s bowl with food. Jaiden and Jaylen were upstairs, yawning and dressing.

It was a normal morning in the Day house.

After they have dressed themselves, socks and all, Jenna and Emma found me in the master bathroom. Jenna asked for braids and sparkly plastic flower barrettes. Emma asked me to do something pretty with her hair; this is the first time in a month she has not professed her preference to keep her hair down. Jaylen was sent on a mission to find the toothbrushes. Jaiden finally stumbled  downstairs.

Darin was in the kitchen, dutifully making Emma’s lunch and tossing it into a reusable Polar Bear bag.

I braided. I clipped in barrettes. I arranged ponytails. I instructed someone to please put toothpaste on the toothbrushes.

And then Darin and the little bitties left. I checked my Facebook and e-mail while the older two poured cereal into bowls and Jaiden finished up her homework. I found Jaiden a dictionary and smiled to myself because she was so happy to get one. Meanwhile, her Raisin Bran was getting soggy and I remembered I forgot to ask Darin again to get the Crock-Pot down. It is on the top shelf of our pantry, which is about a foot and a half taller than me. Perhaps higher?

I attempted to pull it down. I stood on my toes, then jumped for it. And I succeeded in getting it off of the shelf. In the process it slipped, hit me on the back of the head and neck and fell, crashing on the tile floor and onto a box of grits.

The ceramic crock was in about 15 different pieces, the glass lid shattered all over the hallway, the pantry, on top of boxes of crackers and macaroni and cheese. It was in my hair, my ears, the cuts on my arm and my feet.

Somehow in my haste to be prepared for dinner, I broke my 5-quart Crock-Pot over my own head. That’s talent, right? Whatever it was, it hurt.

In a daze, I slipped on shoes and pick up the large pieces. I teared up as I put them into the trashcan, then use the vacuum to suck up the rest of the glass. It takes a good 10 minutes or more. The kids were late for school again, but I had to go pay the oustanding balance on Jaiden’s lunch account, anyway (someone can’t be trusted to take the check to the lunch lady!). When I got to work, my coworker helped me secure gauze over the cuts on my bicep.

And I felt like such an idiot. All day.

I was still pulling tiny shards of glass from my ear, my hair, my back this afternoon. I have a bump and bruise on my head. My neck is stiff. My back hurts and one of my hip joints hurt, oddly. My body actually aches as much as it did months ago, back when I was pleading with doctors that something was wrong with me and my tests all say everything’s normal. This despite the Tylenol and Motrin I took throughout the day.

Today was production day, the most stressful, strenuous and busy day of the week. I got home at 8 p.m. tonight, having to work late to get stories and photos and the electronic version of the paper online before tomorrow.

Even though I had a horrible morning, I was surprised with the tastiest slice of homemade strawberry cake today (thank you, Hanson!). I wrote a story I’m excited about. Gwen and I booked a May wedding. My husband brought me dinner. And he bought new Crock-Pot.

This one even has a locking lid.

He also working on finishing the pantry, the pantry he’s been working on for about six months. The pantry that has lower shelves and plenty of storage for my kitchen appliances so I won’t risk life and limb to slow cook a pot roast or grill chicken breasts indoors.

And so now I am exhausted. I am in bed. I can’t wait to try again tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I know, I will laugh about all of this.

Because, seriously, who breaks their Crock-Pot over their own head? (We all need party tricks, I know, but this is a little ridiculous.)

Something is wrong with me. This much I know is true.

It all started with a tingling sensation in my hands and feet, what felt like swelling and a mellow mood. I was numb, not only in my feet, but also emotionally. Emotionally, if felt anything at all, it was either anger or melancholy. It’d been raining for weeks on end, so I thought I had cabin fever.

Then my moods began changing rapidly, swinging uncontrollably. This is normal for women, especially once a month, but it felt different than before and I’d expected this.

A month and a half ago I developed a sore throat that last for five weeks, off and on. This I attributed to the changing weather and sinus allergies that have led to chronic sinusitis. I began having hot flashes accompanied by nausea; when I was in the car, I’d turn up the air conditioner on high and stick my face in the cool air as it was the only thing that helped. I thought the hot flashes in the morning were due to putting on fleece pajama bottoms when I woke up.

My vision has blurred, my concentration has diminished, my joints are stiff when I stand for more than a few minutes, my muscles ached and I started having more frequent and more painful headaches. There were explanations for these symptoms as well – too much computer usage or sitting at my desk for far too long without getting up to stretch my legs. (more…)

I think that I am just not cut out for motherhood. And it took me six years and three kids to figure that out.

Yesterday while they were supposed to be cleaning the closet they destroyed the day before, my older two wreaked havoc on their room and the rest of the upstairs. They tore down my curtains. They lost my child support check and new voter registration information (it was later found inside the refrigerator). Thankfully they behaved when we went to lunch with a friend of mine, though Jaylen decided he’d like to get food from the buffet and LEAVE HIS SHOES UNDER THE TABLE! So he was walking around, BAREFOOT!, at a Chinese buffet. Someone shoot me, and do it now.

Oh but wait! It gets LOADS better.

Last night I had a city meeting to go to and before that I had to drop by someone’s house to take pictures for a story. A reprieve from my tour of duty here in Hell. Anyway. While I was gone, Jaylen decided to climb up the closet shelves and get the chewable Benadryl down. And eat 4-5 of them. That is what I came home to. My dad heard him upstairs messing around and when he came to check on him, he found Jaylen standing in front of the TV (that he was not supposed to be watching) with the box in his hand. The pill packaging was inside his PILLOWCASE. I had them call Poison Control before I got home and was also greeted with the news that I would have to stay up until 3 a.m. waking him every hour to make sure he was still responsive, still alive.

Like I said: someone just shoot me right now.

This morning I woke up to quiet, but Jaiden quickly informed me that Jenna had yet again removed her diaper and peed in the bed. The other day I changed her sheets as I was putting her down for a nap and she peed the bed during naptime. So I had to change the sheets I’d JUST put on. And now I have to change them again.

I am really, really tired of this. I really am.

Sometimes I wish I were childless so I could ENJOY my “vacation time.” I thought about taking them to the zoo, but someone would probably drug the monkeys or play with elephant poop.

Yesterday I was going back through some of my older entries; in one I said that I hadn’t found being a mother of three especially difficult yet. Jenna was only a few weeks old at the time. My how things have changed.

Parents-to-be: THIS is what you have to look forward to. Aren’t you glad?

In other news, I get to meet my nephew Caleb today! I’m SO excited!

Okay, so it’s a mental list. And there are only 4,963,685 things listed on it that I need to have done by Christmas. Including buying more gifts. And getting things wrapped. And getting the kids’ things ready for their various Christmas parties and programs. And writing my stories for two upcoming papers. And putting two papers together. And the normal day-to-day stuff. And getting clothes washed and packed for our trip. And cleaning out my car for the trip. And oh, wrapping birthday presents to take with us on the trip.

Trip? Yes. My cousin Ian is getting married on Saturday. In northwest Missouri. Most of us will be leaving Friday after work, making the 10-hour drive up north, getting up early Saturday morning to meet my oldest brother’s son, Ryder, for the first time (I can’t wait!). We have to meet at the church at 2 p.m. and I will be getting pictures of them getting ready. Then the wedding. Then the reception, which I will also photograph. Then HOME to die – I mean SLEEP. Sunday morning we’ll have church, Caiden’s baptism, back to the house for a little bit of cake to celebrate everything, including Jaylen’s fourth(!!) birthday, then it’s back on the road to Tennessee.

I am supposed to be off on Monday, but that is not definite yet. We have to make sure we get a paper out on Friday. I have no idea when I will get gifts for my parents and Darin and the other few things I have yet to get. I don’t think I can even buy Darin’s any time soon as everyone is sold out. Blah. I swear Christmas just snuck up on me this year. There’s just too much going on.

For Christmas I want sleep. Just sleep. (Okay, and a Mac book and a bigger camera bag and a speedlite.) But um .. yeah. Won’t happen. I get to go back to work the day after Christmas. Yippie. And speaking of sleeping, I should be doing that now, but I stayed up late to design Christmas cards for myself, Katie and Tyrel and Darin and Emma. (All about priorities, ya know.) We have less than a week and I still have yet to send anything. I think we’ll “go green” this year (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) and just email our letter and card around. An added benefit is that it will save me lots of money, too. There’s just something about seeing those bad boys in print, though. I love it.

Anyway. I suppose I should go to bed. I just feel guilty sleeping when there’s so much work to be done.