Udders?

Or utters?
Utter exhaustion, utter frustration, utter anticipation...
I mentioned in my last blog about cleaning out under the stove. I found so many treasures it was almost a shame to throw them out. There were two different kinds of medical tape, some of Beana's Polly Pocket clothes, change, a huge hunk of glass from when our dome fell off our kitchen light and shattered, and a bouncy ball. A MAGIC bouncy ball. It seemed every time I threw the stupid thing out of the kitchen, there it was again under my foot. I finally threw it around the corner, and discovered how the trick worked when my cat went flying by to retrieve it. Sure enough, a paw popped out from around the corner and batted the ball back into the kitchen. Unbeknownst to me, we were apparently playing some form of fetch. I gave up and threw the ball in the living room, scoring me a solid ten minutes before it inched its way back into MY way. Needless to say, when the aggravation set in, the ball "mysteriously" found its way into the garbage. Told you it was magic.
I then got the vacuum cleaner, turned it on, shoved the hose under the oven, and sucked up a cat who screamed, hit the ceiling, and went shooting like a bat out of hell for the safety of hubbys office. I just about peed my pants I was laughing so hard. He has an uncanny ability to make me do that.
Speaking of the cat, after I finished in the kitchen (I can safely say I would willingly lick any appliance in there now without fear of listeria, salmonella, or bubonic plague) I was so hot I decided to open the living room window. Those of you NOT familiar with Max the cat should know this is decidedly his all time favorite thing in the whole world. He can spectate without the danger of actually being outside. The smells and the noise are UTTERLY fascinating to him. I even decided to take him outside once, I was so sure he would love it, only to discover that even clipped nails can break skin, and the only way to coax a cat out from under a row of cars is a large can of treats and a promise never to subject him to such horror again.
Anyway, back to the window- It was just my luck that the damn thing was froze shut. I had Max sitting there with his tail mischieviously swishing side to side, and his head bobbing forward and back like a rooster prowling the barnyard. I slammed my fists on that window, and rocked it back and forth. My cat, being the brilliant feline he is, thought everytime the window made noise it meant that it was open. At this point, he had his nose pressed up against the glass, and everytime that window moved a hundreth of an inch, he rushed forward and slammed his head against it.
Just so I don't keep you in suspense, yes, I did in fact succeed in opening the window.
So I know most of us are veteran Facebookers, but my husband is the latest recruit. He now logs on at least twice a day to update his status and see if anyone has left him comments. I, on the other hand, make sure to constantly remind him of how he used to tell me that Facebook was stupid and pointless, even after many of his own friends asked me about him and why he wasn't on.
Men.
I have finally reached the point of exhaustion where you don't realize how tired you are until you are driving to work with your eyes shut. Soon, I will pass that point and turn in to Mom Zombie, which I am anticipating. At least that way I stop the unrealistic thought that I might actually get a full nights sleep, and move on to the constant haze of insomnia.
Only a few weeks left and I can start not sleeping all over again for the next 18 years or so.
Hubby asked me last night why I was being so crazy about getting the house clean, and I went off on a little tangent about how I NEED everything precisely organized so that when I am too tired to think, I at least know where to find everything.
Trust me, I said to him. I have been through this before.
Yes, he replied. But you didn't have help last time.
True.
God I love that man.

Kristi Rufener