Sorry guys, if you are reading, but its life and it happens..
Mother Nature decided to show her face unexpectedly this morning in a BIG way. The great red tide, cramps, nausea, the wholefuckingshebang. My Magic Snickerdoodles were a life saver.
Tomorrow is baking day, so that means tonight is spent making butter. It is 1 am and I am almost done. Finally. My little "Bug" is snoozing away next to me. She is 5, and my shadow. If I do it, she wants to do it. It is both flattering and frustrating at the same time.
2 am found me in the jetted tub after eating a pretty good sized Mama's special cookie trying to wind down and lose the cramps. So many things go through the Mommy mind when the house is asleep and she is not.
Is the door locked?
Cat and dog fed?
Dishwasher loaded for morning?
Lights out?
Stove off?
Shit, what about my hair straightener?
Is my phone plugged in? No! Damn where is the charger?
Is it too warm in here? Too cold?
Curtains and blinds all closed up?
Shit, did they turn off the garage lights?
Lock the car doors?
All have been done, yet we still wonder. I also wonder..does Daddy think about all of that, or does he just fall in to a blissful sleep because he knows that I'VE GOT THIS, because Mommy ALWAYS has it.
So making this butter. Man, it is nerve wracking. I do it the old fashioned way, decarbing in the oven, butter on the stove top either alone or in a pan of water. Its funny how something so trivial can be so stressful. But you know, it is a lot of money in that oven and I am literally making my medicine. All of this leads me to believe that I am not using nearly enough weed because if I were, I wouldn't be stressing so bad over the weed in the fucking oven!
And then of course the house stinks because of the weed in the oven and you worry about people coming over. I am 45. I am a Mommy. 2/3 of my friends would not use if you gave it to them and 1/3 of those dont know that I do. The stigma is awful. I casually mention it to someone and can tell right away most of the time if I will ever hear from them again. Its no real loss if I dont. Karen and Janet can sit in the corner sipping their wine and popping their pills because the Dr said it was good for them to "wind down". Well guess what! My Dr thinks that it is just fine that I medicate MY way, even if she cant legally prescribe it.
2:30 and I am dried off, feeling much better and more than a little floaty. The butter is done, strained, cooled and chilling out in the fridge until tomorrow. Little Bug is still sleeping soundly, Daddy is still snoring and Bubba and Sissy are snug in their beds.
Nighty Night world, Momma is done for the day.
Mother Nature decided to show her face unexpectedly this morning in a BIG way. The great red tide, cramps, nausea, the wholefuckingshebang. My Magic Snickerdoodles were a life saver.
Tomorrow is baking day, so that means tonight is spent making butter. It is 1 am and I am almost done. Finally. My little "Bug" is snoozing away next to me. She is 5, and my shadow. If I do it, she wants to do it. It is both flattering and frustrating at the same time.
2 am found me in the jetted tub after eating a pretty good sized Mama's special cookie trying to wind down and lose the cramps. So many things go through the Mommy mind when the house is asleep and she is not.
Is the door locked?
Cat and dog fed?
Dishwasher loaded for morning?
Lights out?
Stove off?
Shit, what about my hair straightener?
Is my phone plugged in? No! Damn where is the charger?
Is it too warm in here? Too cold?
Curtains and blinds all closed up?
Shit, did they turn off the garage lights?
Lock the car doors?
All have been done, yet we still wonder. I also wonder..does Daddy think about all of that, or does he just fall in to a blissful sleep because he knows that I'VE GOT THIS, because Mommy ALWAYS has it.
So making this butter. Man, it is nerve wracking. I do it the old fashioned way, decarbing in the oven, butter on the stove top either alone or in a pan of water. Its funny how something so trivial can be so stressful. But you know, it is a lot of money in that oven and I am literally making my medicine. All of this leads me to believe that I am not using nearly enough weed because if I were, I wouldn't be stressing so bad over the weed in the fucking oven!
And then of course the house stinks because of the weed in the oven and you worry about people coming over. I am 45. I am a Mommy. 2/3 of my friends would not use if you gave it to them and 1/3 of those dont know that I do. The stigma is awful. I casually mention it to someone and can tell right away most of the time if I will ever hear from them again. Its no real loss if I dont. Karen and Janet can sit in the corner sipping their wine and popping their pills because the Dr said it was good for them to "wind down". Well guess what! My Dr thinks that it is just fine that I medicate MY way, even if she cant legally prescribe it.
2:30 and I am dried off, feeling much better and more than a little floaty. The butter is done, strained, cooled and chilling out in the fridge until tomorrow. Little Bug is still sleeping soundly, Daddy is still snoring and Bubba and Sissy are snug in their beds.
Nighty Night world, Momma is done for the day.
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