Exhausted

I'm so flippin exhausted right now. School is back in action and that means that I am once again totally wiped out. I will give you just a brief timeline of my first few days.
Monday:
6:45 I arrive at school (early, right?)
7:25 kids come in
7:45 bell rings
7:46 kiddo runs out the door
7:50 I catch him
7:51 he kicks me
8:02 walk with the itty bitty kiddies to breakfast
8:04 one throws up
8:15 back to class
8:17 outside time ("push me on the swing" "chase me" "slide down the slide with me" "come look at the leaves with me" "let me throw dirt in your hair")
9:00 potty time, how it takes 8 3-5 year olds 30 minutes to pee is beyond me but it does
9:35 utter chaos, aka "free centers" - this is where they proceed to pull every toy off the shelf, spread them all around and run around the room
9:45 the second group arrives so for 2 hours there is twice as many children
9:48 little girl runs around the room as I try to grab her, she's on the table, she's in the bathroom, she's pulling the paper off the bulletin board, she's coloring ON the easel (sans paper), she's on the chair, she's pulling someone's hair, she's throwing a toy, SHE IS EVERYWHERE!!
10:00 I want to eat my arm off and then collapse, unfortunately I have to play "baby" where a child feeds me fake food
10:30 clean up time
11:00 circle/music time
11:01 I jump up to get that same girl as she bolts out of the circle
11:02 I wrap my legs around girl and bribe her to stay with chips
11:45 some kids go home (thank you, Jesus)
11:46 lunch time
I have no idea what happens next because I go into a coma

And so it goes, the rest of the day, for god only knows how many weeks. Someone may need to come rescue me from my couch in the following weekends. If you don't, I may just sit here, staring into space, drooling from the exhaustion.

Olympic musings

As the Olympics come to an end, I will finally get my life back. It's a little bittersweet (I mean, what will I watch without badmiton and diving?????) but as the end draws near, I have been thinking about these Olympics and thought you guys may want to know what I think about them:
1. Michael Phelps- no brainer, I wouldn't mention it but duh! He WAS Beijing.
2. Those Chinese gymnasts- geez, they're tiny. Although, I think that if our girls hadn't been 2nd, we wouldn't have given a flying flip if they were 10 or 20. Plenty of gymnasts have admitted to being underage in the Olympics and we never cared. Because they lost and we won.
3. Decathalon- ok, now I was definitely not understanding this event. I thought it was for people who were just kind of good in a bunch of track events but not good enough to do one really well and that it was one event a day (so 10 days). Uh, wrong. 2 days to do 10 events? What the frecnh toast???? That doesn't even seem possible. How does your body do that? These guys are badass.
4. Lolo- that hurdler girl? She's hot. I'm so jealous and have made her my secret friend.
5. Bolt- fast. The end.
6. The marathon- could any event wear me out any more? God, I get worn out just watching these people. And I'm surprised at how much coverage it gets. Does anyone really want to watch girls/dudes run - FOR HOURS?!?!? B-O-R-I-N-G.
7. Diving- nothing makes me more nervous. Everytime they jump off I'm so afraid they will hit their little heads and get knocked out. My stomach hurts from it and I've chewed off my nails because of it. Damn you, diving!! Oh, and are they all gay?
8. The number 8- I never knew it was a significant number until this year. Thank you China for making me aware of the number 8.

So tomorrow will be a bit of a withdrawl for me with no Olympic sports to watch, but I suppose I'll make it through. At least I'll have my Intervention.

It's batty!

I'm slightly psychotic at times about working out. This has led to many nicknames-gym bunny, gym tranny, crazy, meathead, etc. I get it, I get it, I'm a bit overzealous about hitting the weights and pounding the pavement but in my defense, it keeps me sane. So anyway, I'm a fitness psycho and got up at 4:45 to work out the other morning. I live in a building where I park in a parking garage. Nice. I step into the parking garage and something swoops past my head. Wha? Huh? I'm thinking- wow, it's early and there must be a crazy bird following me, why is it in here, why is it so feisty this early, etc. I start walking and -WHOOSH- again something swoops past. Ok, what the hell? Seriously, I know that the birds and I have a mutual hate relationship but this is getting a little out of hand. Nothings should be swooping past my head this early. So I stop and take a look. WHOOSH. Something flies past but this time I get a good look at it and it's a BAT! Ahhhhh!!! A little brown baby bat! What the heck is a bat doing in my building's garage, swooping around, frightening little workout freaks? Well this thing just keeps swooping, back and forth, back and forth and of course it's doing this in the path of my car. I'm thinking up plans of how to get to my car without this freaking bat swooping on me, flying into my hair, sucking my blood (ok, that's a little overdramatic but you know you'd be thinking that!). What is the option I come up with? Run, screaming and covering my ears all the way to my car. Where I dropped the keys. If someone would have seen me, they would have died laughing. I mean, I don't think it's funny but I could definitely see how someone screaming and running through a parking garage would be a little funny.

My thought for the week

So as every living person in the US knows, the Olympics are on. All the time. Keeping me up too late, making me anxious about things I would normally never care about (ahem, men's swimming relay) and basically running my life. And like everyone else, I've heard ALL about Michael Phelps and his world record-breaking times and all the gold medals, blah, blah, blah. But last night, I started feeling bad for all those other swimmers. I mean, you go to the Olympics, which is a MAJOR big deal, and you win this medal. Maybe not a gold, but jeez! Silver or bronze is awesome. You're one of the top 3 people in the world to do this certain event! So you get off your podium and go talk to Bob Costas or Rowdy Gaines or Matt Lauer (love you, Matt) and what do they want to talk to you about? Michael flippin Phelps. These poor guys just won a medal! This may be the only time they get a medal (you never know!) and what do they get? Someone else's 15 minutes of fame. I mean, I get it- this is a really big deal and it's amazing that he's already won but come on. Not only do I feel bad for the swimmers but I kind of feel bad for every single Olympian (is that a word?) who is there. They are all overshadowed by this. And the ones who win the announcers kind of make it sound like, eh- now back to Michael's next race! I don't know. I'm sure people will disagree with me on this, and I completely recognize the enormity of what Michael Phelps is trying to do, so don't get me worng. But I just feel bad for the other kids!

Fat tummy

I have been the biggest freakin bum lately. Like, sitting on the couch, watching tons of movies, too tired to move, drinking anything I can get my hands on tired. Why? The only thing I can think of is the heat. Or malaria. I'm secretly hoping it's malaria. I've always had this secret fear/hope that I got a really bad kind of sick that wouldn't necessarily kill me but would just make everyone feel sorry for me. Kind of sick, huh? There may be something wrong with my head. I made cookies today. And ate them. It made my tummy so full, I'm sitting here burping it all up.

My biggest news is that LP is coming back. Soon. It should be no surprise then to figure that he'll be living with me for a while. In my large apartment. This should provide LOADS of entertaining stories. The last time he lived with me for about a month, the hilarity started the day he moved in. It was Eric's birthday and LP happened to be moving in at the same time. The unfortunate thing about this was that I only had one elevator key, which we both needed at the same time. I (being the patient, rational person I am) kind of freaked out on him for a little bit and yelled and bitched at him for no real reason. He (being quite aware of my tendency for dramatics at time) smiled and asked me what I would like to do and that he would be more than willing to take care of it all and would join us later. I met up with the friends and immediately felt like a be-yotch. So, later that evening I apologized profusely for snapping at him and told him how mean I was. At this point he smiles and asks me to get a box in the closet. It was a present for me, you know, the bitchy girl who snapped at him. He thought it was hilarious that I was so mean and he had gotten me a present (it was a really awesome glazed bowl from Clarksville Pottery to put my keys and stuff in that I had wanted). And this is what living with me is like-kind of dramatically bipolar crazy. But never boring!