Restless Legs Syndrome

Pretty sure I have Restless Leg Syndrome. I'm not joking, so stop laughing. 

Okay, I'm laughing too. I'm sure I don't have any leg conditions, but man, I have this constant urge to keep my legs moving when it's time to go to sleep. 

I'm weirded out by it so much that I've been talking to my legs. 

That's right. I'm talking to my legs. I say things like:

"Why don't you just take a chill pill and go to sleep?"

Or...

"What is your problem? Can't you just lay still?"

As of yet they haven't responded...and I'm thinking they aren't going to. 

So, should I read them a bedtime story? Massage them? Relax in a hot bath tub? Take some Tylenol PM?  Well? 

Just what I thought, Blog.....You're not answering me either!

Adios Muchachas 

Mel

P.S. Blog, if you do answer, I'm pretty sure I'm going to freak out. 

Parenting bites...Sometimes

Teenage girls are impossible. 

Preteen boys are oblivious to everything. 

Eight year old girls are envious. 

And five year boys are hellions. 

When you throw it all in the blender and turn it on it creates one big chaotic smoothie of sweet, spicy and chunky insanity. 

Sometimes it drives me wild, other times I love it. 

Either way, I guess it's my own sort of madness and I get to live with it forever. 

Or, at least the next 12 years, when the last one finally graduates high school. 

Tonight, it's borderline insane between all the kids. The teenager and 8 year old are fighting over the teenager bossing the 8 year old around at the pool. The 5 year old is crying about his bedtime and the preteen is oblivious to it all because the Heat need to beat the Spurs. 

This is the time when I would like to lock myself in a closet and eat ice cream right out of the carton. 

But who am I kidding, they would find me. 

So, as parents, we were judge and jury over the fighting, tucked the little hellion into his bed and the oblivious child went to bed on his own. (I'm claiming that one as my own!) 

And now? It's super quiet in our house. Sort of eerie. But I LOVE it. 

Maybe the dog will bark...Let's hope not. 

Adios Muchachas,

Mel