Archive for the ‘not so much’ Category

Maybe I should have gone to detox.

Posted 07 Mar 2012 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category I am a moron, not so much

I haven’t had a soda since Sunday.

I’ve had a debilitating headache since 2pm on Monday.

I thought maybe it was sinuses since my eyes hurt, and well as my forehead, but I’m not having any other symptoms (ie snot over-production).

In the meantime, my back has been whack (see what I did there?) so I went to the chiropractor yesterday thinking it would help my headache and my back. My upper back’s been giving me grief for a week, and then yesterday the lower back was getting achy.

So, I got an adjustment. My upperback? Awesome. My lower back? Completely unusable. I can’t do anything. I can’t bend over, I can’t walk normal, I can’t even pick up Abbers. It hurts all the time. Fer Christ’s sake – I’m sitting at my desk at work with my heating pad on. I BROUGHT MY HEATING PAD TO WORK. Ugh. I’m old.


Turns out I’m suffering from caffeine withdrawal. Symptoms can include headache (which can last from 1-5 days, and centers behind the eyes, and then to the front of the head), lethargy, insomnia, fatigue, and flu like symptoms, such as nausea, vomiting, muscle pain and stiffness.

Part of me is like, well, I should just have a soda and it’ll make everything better! But then I think about crack addicts and they’re all like “I’ll just smoke more crack and then I won’t feel bad anymore!” Granted, I know a 32 oz cup of Coca-cola is no crack, but I just don’t know what to do. It’s just soda. Lord knows I’m not giving it up for good, just trying to cut back. But this? RIDICULOUS. I might just have one during lunch to see if my headache subsides. Ibuprofen won’t touch it. Like, 600mgs of ibuprofen.

Isn’t there some place called the Palms where I can detox with celebs? Someone send me there.

Attempting the impossible.

Posted 05 Mar 2012 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category I am a moron, I am awesome, not so much

Any of you who know me outside of the interwebs (you know, in real life) know that I have one true vice. Soda. Specifically, Coca-Cola.

Oh, Coke. It is so delicious. Especially fountain Coke from McDonalds. I have a name for large Cokes from McDonalds. MAGIC COKE. Because they taste like liquid magic.

I’m getting off track. See? I EFFING LOVE COKE.

The problem is, I really only ever drink soda anymore. I never drink water. Just soda. This? Is not healthy. Combined with my lack of exercise and it seems I’m growing my own innertube for our trip to the ocean in 6 weeks.

SO. I’m giving it up. No, not completely. Do you think I’m insane? Right. I’m giving up soda during the week. Only to be served on the weekends.

Already I’m struggling. I really want one right now. BUT I WILL PREVAIL.

(not ironically, when I Googled “no more coke,”
it mostly returned images of Lil’ Wayne and Charlie Sheen.
Which is awesome.)

Wish me luck.

Man up, you whiny suburbians.

Posted 29 Feb 2012 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category not so much, other people are morons, uncategorized

(Where I complain about wussy school districts.)

So, as I mentioned yesterday, we got some weather overnight. First it rained, then there was sleet, then it snowed, but warmed up so all the ice melted. Thus, we were left with a big slushy mess.

Whatevs. It was passable. The roads were kinda lame, but I made it downtown like the rest of the world, and it only took me an extra 10 minutes from where I live in South Minneapolis.

However, I get to Abby’s daycare, only to find out it’s not opening until 9am. There are literally like, 50 parents and kids just standing around outside the daycare, along with some of it’s employees. Apparently, my daycare follows the school closing lead of a suburb of Minneapolis. Edina. (They have a daycare center in Edina as well as our location in DT Mpls.)

Those of you who aren’t from the area won’t be familiar with Edina. It’s the hoity-toity neighbor of Minneapolis. The fact that they decided to delay schools is almost ridiculous. Most of those fools drive Land Rovers anyway, so I doubt any of them had any trouble getting their kids to school.

I’ve made a graphical display of the situation:



Anyway, after I arrived at Abby’s daycare, a woman exited the building with her offspring and crabbily told me that Abby’s daycare wasn’t opening until 9am because of the weather. Because Edina schools had chosen to delay.

They delayed schools an hour. Just enough to eff me over and make me super late for work, AND miss the early bird on a parking ramp. (We’re talking a $4 savings here people.) Anyway – EVERYONE WAS THERE. Teachers, room aides, kids, parents – EVERYONE. THERE. And a big sign on the door saying they weren’t opening until 9am. It was 8:47. It was a total joke. And it made me crabby.

The end.

Mr. Marbles?

Posted 15 Jul 2011 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category not so much

I’m on no sleep. NO SLEEP!

(In case you’re missing the reference – here’s the clip from Seinfeld.)

Oh, I’m stressed.

Seriously though – my life for the last week has been like this episode of Seinfeld where Jerry & Kramer switch apartments and Jerry can’t sleep because of the Kenny Rogers Roasters sign. And Mr. Marbles. Except in this instance, the Kenny Rogers sign is Abby’s wraspy breathing and Mr. Marbles is my random night sweats.

Ladies and germs – Abby and I have the summer cold. Abby’s been sick for a week now, with both a double ear infection and pink eye in both eyes (which I’m thinking is just the cold virus in both eyes). I got sick on Tuesday…and since then it’s been nothing but muscle aches, sweats & chills, and copious amounts of snot & chest congestion. Grossed out yet?

It’s been SUCH A DRAG – this week and the next two are my busiest of the year at work and I have all these deadlines I’ve missed for people outside of work that I owe stuff (you know who you are, you’ll be getting emails soon) and then a pretty serious drama involving some friends that I don’t even have time to get into…

Hold on, grabbing my paper bag to breathe into…

Long story short, I haven’t had a serious good night’s rest in a week. And I’m close to punching my own lungs back to where they came from (that doesn’t make sense) with all this coughing.

So…yeah. Sorry for the delay with shiz and lack of posts and inability to form complete and proper sentences.


The terrible 1.5’s.

Posted 12 Apr 2011 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category Abigail, baby business, motherhood, not so much

Mondays are my “Abby + Me” days, where I don’t work and she and I do whatever. I would like to say we play lots of games and do arts + crafts and it’s nothing but play dates and swing sets, but no. We usually do laundry!! and go grocery shopping!! (I add the exclamation marks because whenever I talk about doing these things with Abby, I act SUPER excited and make the oh-face (not THAT one, perv) with my eyebrows raised and gasp for joy. So now, when I mention them, SHE makes the oh-face and gasps for joy. As if they’re the greatest activities ON EARTH. She’s smart most of the time, people.)

Anyway, yesterday was no exception. We went and visited the hubs at his work so his coworkers could see that he actually DID have a child 18 months ago and those weren’t just pictures of someone else’s kid. Then we hopped back in the car and drove to the grocery store.

In the beginning it was uneventful, and quite like the normal trip to the grocery store; Abby wanting to hold everything and me attempting to keep things like bread and eggs out of her hands. I grabbed a jar of peanut butter which she immediately wanted to hold. I hand it to her – what could she possibly do? It’s plastic. She got her little hands on that jar and started pounding it on the cart, only to have it rebound up and hit her in the forehead.

Cue the red-faced silent cry that can only give way to the GIGANTIC-EXHALE-SCREAM-CRY.

I quickly calmed her and stuffed her binkie in her mouth and left that aisle as quickly as possible since everyone seemingly assumed I had just cattle-branded my daughter. (At least that’s what I would have assumed.) Little did I know that this small chain of events was enough to convert this normal trip to the grocery store to the GROCERY STORE TRIP FROM HELL. We went from zero to Damien in like, 30 seconds.

I grabbed the next item on the list, mandarin orange cups, which OF COURSE she wanted to hold. Only, I didn’t know she’d changed over into Satan spawn and as soon as I handed them to her she threw them on the floor, breaking the packaging and busting open two of the fruit cups. I whispered a quick “ABIGAIL!” under my breath and ran the leaking package back down the aisle to get a new one, when I hear the following:


(For the record, I was about 15 feet from the fruit cups. And JUST LEFT HER SIDE. And she wasn’t in the middle of the aisle. She was in the cart off to the side but far enough away so she couldn’t start tearing things off the shelf.)

I turn around and see some old bag with a cart full of rotisserie chicken and prune juice pointing at my kid and yelling in the middle of the grocery store. I grabbed a new package of mandarin oranges and walked back to my cart, glaring at the old woman. She said (loudly) “The nerve of some parents!” and then started shuffling away. So, now I have devil child giving me shit, and some random geriatric practically calling social services.

After this I try buying some meat products, Abby screams because I won’t let her hold them, and then the spitting starts. (When she’s mad, she’ll purse her lips and expel a bunch of spit, which just drips down her chin and on her clothes. Again, DAMIEN.) I mutter, “You are SO going into time-out when we get home.” In hindsight, I can see how my increasing anxiety and crabbiness only made the situation worse, but I really don’t see how I could have remembered that when in reality I could have used an exorcist for my child.

I DID remember though that this kid effing LOVES balloons. So I figure I’ll go borrow one from the floral department to keep her distracted for the rest of the trip. They didn’t have your standard mylar balloons on strings, only the miniature ones on a plastic stick. FINE. They had a Belle “princess” one – SCORE. Abby couldn’t have been more elated. She started rubbing it on her head and was happy as a clam.

I make it through the rest of the store without issue for the most part. I get to the second to last aisle, only water jugs and a 12-pack of Coke to go, and the worst thing in the history of grocery trips happens.

The balloon pops.

Abby looks at me yelling “BUUUUT! Mama! Broke! BUUUT!” (buuuut is how she says balloon), while shoving the quickly deflating balloon in my face. I look at her calmly and say “It’s broken, honey. Mama can’t fix it. It’s still pretty though!” And then Damien throws it in my face and hits me. I start muttering “serenity now” over and over again, grab my final items and think to myself I just have to check out and this will be over. Ten more minutes and this will be over.

I turn the corner to get into a checkout line and see four lanes open and they’re all about six people deep.

I bite my lip to avoid my own personal meltdown and get in line. Abby starts yelling “MAMA! UP! MAMA! WALK! DOWN! MAMA!” because she ‘s sick of being in the cart and probably wants someone else for a mom at this point. To avoid putting on another performance of the Abby Show, I let her down but ask her to hold my hand, which she does for a whopping 3 seconds before she takes off. I run after her, pick her up and bring her to the cart and she bites me. This is when the tears start welling up in my eyes because now I probably have the devil venom she so clearly is the carrier of. Also my child just bit me in front of the whole grocery store.

We finally get to the front of the line where I unload my groceries on the conveyor belt and hand the clerk the deflated and now totally mangled balloon. He says “Oh dear, what happened here?” and I tell him that my child destroyed it, but I’m glad to pay him for it. He gets all kind and says that’s not necessary, to which I reply “I will gladly pay for that thing, because the 20 minutes of silence it bought me was priceless.” I hand Abby the reciept for the groceries to keep her occupied (which she promptly threw on the floor) and we left the grocery store.

Serenity now.

**Disclaimer: My daughter is more times than not totally awesome and sweet and the greatest kid on the planet. I write this more so as a demonstration that the “Terrible Two’s” is SUCH AN EFFING LIE.

**She was back to her sweet self today.