That's it, I'm all done. Stop the ride. I want to get off.

I know I have said I was all done before, and somehow managed to stay on my merry-go-round horse and continue to go up and down and round and round, but this time I damn well mean it.
Yesterday Eleanor cut her first tooth, which is very exciting and blah blah blah, and last night she made us pay for her pain. I say "us" because last night it was actually Andy and not me that got barfed all over. Apparently Eleanor does not like to take ibuprofen. So, after emptying the contents of her stomach which included her entire dinner (which was of course fish, the absolute grossest kind of vomit to clean up) and all the breast milk I had available for her, she was much happier but not much interested in sleep, which was fine since it took forever to scrub all the puke off the glider and out of the carpet. She then proceeded to get up at least once an hour until 3:00 a.m., at which point it took me about 45 minutes to get her back to sleep. "Oh that is not so bad!" you think. At least I would have gotten to sleep from 3:45 to 6:00. True, except Hammie got up and went totally f-ing berserk at 4:00 a.m. Clearly they are conspiring to kill me, and I think if I kill them first I could make a pretty good self-defense case.

On the way home from preschool today we saw a beautifully restored 1960s Ford Mustang with the license plate "SUZPONY" and I thought "that is my car." When I have my midlife crisis (I'm thinking maybe 5 years from now) that is the car I am going to buy. And I'm going to buy some cowboy boots too to wear when I drive it in my jeans and white tank top and there will be not one damn car seat in that car, ever. If there was going to be a photo in this blog (which there will not be, because, as I stated above, I am ALL DONE with my children and do not wish to speak to them much less attempt to take any photos of them today) it would be the photo in my mind of me and that damn car, and NO ONE ELSE.

Yes, clearly I am ALL DONE. It has now officially been a year, that's right a YEAR, since Andy and I were able to go away for one night without the kids, and it has been almost that long since we were even able to go out to dinner without the kids. I think the strain is starting to show, on both of us. I have noticed recently too, that when people (and by this I mean mothers) bitch about their children they always preface it with something like "of course I love my children, but..." or "I know I'm so lucky to be home with the kids, but..." and wonder who they are trying to convince, me or them. So, with no qualification or apology here it is, I want a damn night alone with my husband. That's right kids, see you in the morning, or in a week, mommy needs a freaking break.

Yes, I realize I sound like a spoiled two-year-old "Stop the ride! I want that car! Gimmie Gimmie Gimmie!" but sometimes we all have to let our inner-two-year old speak for us if we have any chance of drowning out the actual two-year-old in the house and getting any of our own needs met. And yes, I also realize that going away for the weekend, or dinner out for that matter, is still many months away, but that knowledge doesn't make the reality suck any less right now. I do also realize that I am not alone on this Kentucky-derby of a merry-go-round, and Andy is also here holding onto his horse for dear life, so I'm sorry honey that I said the mustang was just for me. I love you so much Andy, and I want to share everything with you, our lives, our children, and yes, our dreams. I love you SO much, that I will give you.... a ride, in my car.