Spaz-a-troid!

Here's the link to this pick. Thanks for the stupid conscience Earl!

Got to work yesterday and seriously, I wasn't working right. Because the night before Mac woke up at 3.30 am and was crying. Then he started yelling--"i DON WANNA GO TO BEEEEDDDD!!!" He was laying in the hall in front of his room. And I'm all like, "Sweetie, you are in bed. Go back to sleep!"

That is called "parenting with your eyes closed." And sadly, yelling this out does not produce the desired results.

This wakes my daughter up and now everyone is up. The kids are on our bedroom floor. We don't let them sleep in our bed anymore. They are big kids who buck and snore and one of them talks in his sleep. Plus they are hot little people, like a heating pad pushed on high. So on the floor they go. But even on the floor they still make so much noise. Back to their room they go.

Meanwhile, Mr. Hall had taken his phone downstairs because if he wakes up in the middle of the night, he has to calm down to go back to sleep. The phone is our alarm clock.

Next thing I know, Mr. Hall is leaning over me, "Babe, it's 7.55, wake up". I bolt out of bed, splash water on my face, get dressed and am out the door by 8.05. My first patient is at 8.30. I need to motor.

I'm sadly without a stitch of make up. This makes me sad. I'm starving for breakfast.

Then I get work and realize it's the first Monday of the Month. The clinic is closed for our monthly meeting. I don't have patients until 12.30. DAMMITT!!

Then I realize, I volunteered to present one of my cases to the doctors at my work. It wasn't my turn to present, but I volunteered. BAH!! I usually have my act together, all professional and prepared for such things. This is NOT THE CASE that day. Again, I am not wearing lipstick and I feel discombobulated.

I start to talk and realize MY MOUTH IS NOT WORKING. I am in full Spaz-a-troid mode.

I have to slow down and purposefully sound out words like, 'schizophrenia', and 'he had a poor response to risperidone.' I am literally forcing the words out of my mouth. My brain feels like a bunch of loose papers stacked in messy piles, strewn all over the place. I can no longer fight the obvious. I take a deep breath and stop talking. I look them right in the eye and say, "My kid was up half the night. Sorry, my brain is still re-booting."

And they laugh and understand. Which is great. We have a great working relationship, the doctors and me, the psychiatric NP.

And there ya go. That's all I have for today! :)