Don't Drink and Bake

I worry that I worry too much. Seriously - even before the Type 1 dx, I drove my self right up to the sanity city limits with scenarios ranging from the terrifying to the ridonculous. Of course now I just have new material to work with.

Here's my issue. When my husband is out of town for work, the frenzy of one adult overseeing two kids and all that entails leaves me longing for a little evening cocktail. But what if I suddenly need to go somewhere? Pharmacy, ER - or what if she calls me to help with a low and I'm sleeping just a wee bit too soundly to hear on the first summons?

Since one 5 oz. nip is my usual limit - it's not like we're knocking back a bottle of Jack on a good night - I sense that this behavior might go past responsible to kinda silly.

Light My Fire

A week off at Thanksgiving generally messes me up. I sort of get lulled into the idea that I make a living as the personal Martha Stewart for my family - a job I LOVE and then Wham! It's Thursday - show time, the Friday recovery (no way in hot hell do I shop) and then its already the weekend and time to think about getting back to the real job - the one that actually pays for all the Martha exploits. It just flies by too fast.

I didn't get half the things done that I planned to over the week off- my staircase is half painted and I'm not sure that a single run on the treadmill over 9 days really qualifies as "getting workouts back into my schedule," but at least my fireplace mantel now looks like a Pottery Barn catalog. However, I now see there is a very good reason the candles in the pretty pictures are never lit...