It's finally happening

So the other morning I woke up and discovered this bruise on my eyelid.

It wasn't there before I went to sleep.

I have no recollection of hitting my eye in the middle of the night.

I did, however, have crazy dreams about plaque on my tooth that I couldn't get off, no matter how hard I brushed. This was followed by dreams of aliens impersonating my husband.

It's finally happening, I'm losing my mind.

This is what our living room looks like right now. If the UPS man sees me bra-less and in my pajamas one more time, I really just might die of embarrassment. Just don't come to my house before 11 am and expect me to be dressed, ok?

It's finally happening, we're about to open our practice.

Today I had a small meltdown. I was busy with Tim at the practice all day today, getting trained on our new patient software and doing various tasks. I was tired out and went to get Lily from Wendy, who so kindly watched her all day today. Then we had to head to the store because we were going over to our friends' for dinner.

Did I mention it is butt cold here? No really. These are Wisconsin temps. I was told we wouldn't have to experience being this cold again.

I was lied to.

Back to the store, where the shopping cart is so butt cold that Lily will not deign to sit her little booty in it, and I can't blame her, because it is seriously freezing. But I'm in a rush and I only have to get three things! That's it! How bad can it be? So I push the cart and hoist the little 20-something-pounder on my hip (which is basically disappearing), and take a moment to seriously reconsider the sheer physical logic of having two children so close together. I stop this train of thought as soon as possible. I am tired. Lily is whining. She is heavy. Finally we get our items. After getting her back in the car, I vow that she is staying in the car until we get to our friends' house so that I don't have to get her out and then in again.

I get home. Tim is supposed to be home ready to leave. He is not home yet. I am slightly annoyed. I decide I will run inside, let the dog out, feed dog, then put dog in the car, and by then Tim should be home.

I had put Dirk in our upstairs loft, closed all the doors to the rooms, and put up the baby gate to keep him upstairs so he doesn't swipe food off of our counters or freeze to death in his crate in the garage. See how nice I am to him?

I go up the stairs. The baby gate is up. All the doors are closed. There is no dog. I call the dog.

There is no dog.

I call Tim. Where-is-the-dog-and-why-aren't-you-home? He doesn't know where the dog is and is working with the security system guy.

I go around house, calling dog. All of the house doors are locked. There is no mass destruction or sign of a break-in or -out.

Where the blankety-blank is my blankety-blank dog??

I start getting a little hysterical. I remember Lily is still in the car. Of course by now she is crying. I take her out of the car and get her some milk. I go upstairs and start opening doors. Door number 1, 2, 3: No dog. Door number 4: Stupid dog who somehow got himself in room, had the door close on him, and has since been attempting to make his escape by digging through the carpet.

I am relieved.

I am pissed.

I am now having a meltdown. I call Tim. "Please come home now" and hang up. He comes home and is disappointed to see that dog is alive, well, and happy to see him. He was hoping that said meltdown resulted from dog dying in a tragic yet unpreventable way.

We go to our friends' house and the dog licks their 6 month old baby obsessively in the face and nearly steps on her several times and they just laugh, because they are really good friends.

It's finally happening.

Hopefully I (and Dirk) will make it!