The math I most need is the ability to count my blessings

I went to bed last night around 1am, which, sadly, is not unusual.

I was disposed to feel sorry for myself, because I was a ‘single parent’ for a week, my husband being off on a business trip, and because I was in a fair amount of pain with a TMJ problem,  which my dentist cheerfully assured me was “chronic” and “due to stress” despite the fact that I’d never previously had it.

I mean, come on. You should have to have something go wrong at least TWICE to consider it chronic. That’s my “rage, rage against the dying of the light” POV.

He prescribed me a muscle relaxant (because nothing says taking care of 5 children orthodontia week like ‘new meds that you can’t take while operating heavy machinery’) and I’d obediently attempted to get them filled, because ALL I really wanted was to be prone in my own house, in less pain. Took the 15 minute guarantee Rite-Aid over an hour to come up with a third of the prescription, but I won’t get into that.

After dinner, etc., had massive trouble converting all the MAC files to PC files for Tegan’s school project, and, what with one thing and another, no one got to bed until 1 am.

Woke up to schedule a visit from the geo-thermal drilling guy for 20 minutes later, to get everyone up to be ready for that, to be followed by orthodonist visit, school, etc. etc.

And when I walked into the bathroom, there was a surprise. 2 surprises.

The countertop had been wiped clean, and there was a full, untouched, roll of toilet paper.

This is Countertop Wiper:

He's actually being a Greek mask of Comedy, here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here is Toilet Paper Replacer:

Teens get all the sleep they missed as babies.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m not a single parent, ever. I’m part of a team. A Family.