What the ????

9:45 am today and I had just spent nearly an hour on Facebook, tagging my family in pics from a fun-filled weekend in Las Vegas. I checked my school email and found that my professor had emailed the syllabus and signed his note with a "See you this evening." But that message was yesterday, and that was impossible, I thought, because it's still Spring Break.

He's just a visiting teacher, I thought, silly guy. But when another email was found with another syllabus and a message, "See you in class!" the suspicion that I was wrong became disgustingly clear. I checked the school calendar online, and sure enough, the first day of Spring Quarter was YESTERDAY!

Okay, don't panic. I had fifteen minutes to get dressed, put make-up on and head out the door to make it to my Tuesday classes on time. What about the kids? Hubby was supposed to go to LA today. Sorry hubby, gotta go!

Pulled into the parking lot and found a space. Pulled in too close between two other SUV's. Ugh, the gardener mowing the lawn in the parking lot is staring at me, I back out and pull to a free space with nobody next to me. I get out, it's crooked. I start her up and do it again. Better. Off to school. Damn, car's still crooked. Oh well, I'm running out of time.

Cross the street. Damn, forgot soda on top of car. Run back and grab it so it doesn't ruin my paint on the car (does it do that? I know it does on coffee tables). What building is my class is in? I forgot the schedule in the car, crap. I know it was BY-something so I find the map. Where's a campus directory when you need one? I need an app for that! So, found "Boyce Hall" and I think that sounds right. And I head into the side of campus where the trees are big and shady, and it would be beautiful if they weren't covering the building names. Circle around the library once. Better check map again.

Stopped to consult my laptop campus map and knew that if I saw the Physics building I had gone too far. And low and behold, I finally found it! Hooray! By this time I was sweaty and tired, and had to creep into an already started History of Modern Mexico class. About ten minutes into it, as I reapplied my lip gloss and checked emails, I remembered why I used to hate school, and history. Ugh.

After getting through this class I would have to revise a play that was due in my next class, and figure out what room number that class was in since I wasn't "officially" enrolled in it. So I would be spending the short break between this class and my next one trying to eat lunch, revise a ten page play and then find somewhere to print it out, and hope either my professor emails me back with the room number or my friend texts me back in the next hour.

All I can say is, 10 more weeks until Graduation...

She's Marking her Territory

Okay, I know this is typical of new male dogs, but my tutu-clad 3 year old is already a year past potty training days, so what gives?

I have changed the bed sheets in the house probably four times in the last week. First we had a run of the flu, so all the sheets got cleaned and the house smelled sanitary like the pungent aroma of bleach escaping from the laundry room. The next night Ashlyn crawled into bed with me somewhere around 3 am, and I woke up at about 6:30 in an enormous puddle of urine soaked sheets!

Good thing I bought a new mattress protector a few weeks ago, except that this girl must have leaked a gallon of pee into my bed, soaking through the pad and into the once nice and new pillow-top mattress. Why was I so eager to get her out of pull-ups at night?

Then the laundry starts again. A couple nights later she is unable to sleep all night again (all these darn colds and coughs going around) but I wasn't going to make that mistake of letting her in my bed happen again, no sir! So, I climbed into her bed and tried to snuggle her back to sleep. She sweetly told me not to put my arm around her because it would hurt her belly, so I pulled up her pink pony comforter and rolled over to try to get some shut eye. After countless conversations, I realized that there was no chance of being able to sleep with my insomniac daughter, I gave up and brought her into my bed.

We woke up to yet another puddle, and I cursed myself for giving her so many sips of water in the middle of the night. But what was I supposed to do, she was coughing? I didn't make her sit on the potty, even though it is usually a steadfast rule that no kids can sleep in Mommy's bed until they at least try to go pee on the toilet. But at 3 am, or 4:30, whatever time it was, Mommy was delirious and just wanted to go back to sleep! So, shame on me for not enforcing my own rules. And I see clearly why I set that rule in place.

Today I am washing Ashlyn's bedding. I just put new sheets on her bed two days ago, but this morning she wet right through her comforter, blanket, sheets, mattress pad, and even managed to soil her snuggly kitty-cat Armando.

If this wasn't enough evidence that she is marking her turf, her vomit explosion on the sofa sealed the deal. It wasn't bad enough that she threw up all over the couch, but it was on the part of the sectional where I typically sit and lie down. So now, after a week of continuos sheet changing and bleaching laundry, I can't even sit on the couch and relax without the lingering aroma of vomit.

I looked up how much it would cost to have the couch cleaned, but since it's a sectional (and the vomit was right in the middle section of course!) it would be almost $200!!! So, I scratched that idea and googled how to clean up vomit, coming across a recipe for white vinegar and warm water, followed by a baking soda paste. Let dry, then vacuum.

I followed the instructions, eager to get that stench out of what used to be my nice navy blue chenille sofa. The vinegar stung my eyes, but was refreshing compared to the smell it was trying to clean. I waited all day for it to dry so I could vacuum it up, but after ten hours it was as dry as it was gonna get and the vacuum effectively smeared the baking soda deeper into the texture of my couch, it did not suck up the white at all.

Well, I flipped the cushion, but the smell still won't go away. I sprayed a new bottle of Febreze all over the cushions five or six times throughout the next couple of days. But I still can't lay down on my couch without catching a not-so-faint whiff of vomit.

But why should a Mom get to take a break anyway? There are more loads of laundry to get done, folded and put away. Oh yea, and finals week for this college mom...