My uterus has a migraine

Yeah, it does. I had a migraine for 3 days, this morning I woke up and my head was fine but much to my dismay I realized the migraine just migrated south. Straight to my uterus. Migraines are talented like that, at least mine are.

Anyway, I couldn't sit and mope over my pain for too long because my 3 year old sat up, rubbed her eyes (what? oh...yeah, she still gets in my bed sometimes, co-sleeping with a roving preschooler is great for that under-eye circle I-don't-ever-sleep mom look) and started coughing. She continued coughing until her stomach got pissed of and deposited its' contents on my sheets. So the runny nose wasn't enough, now we have some pretty bad coughing and a nice fever. An hour later we are sitting in the "surf shirt" room at the pediatricians office...yellow wallpaper with a repeating pattern of button-down shirts with colorful beach designs...at least it is useful for playing i-spy while we wait for the doctor to arrive. I'm standing there wondering if I can beg them for some samples of mega cramp killer when he aims his light up my buttercups nose and says "oh yeah mom, lots of pus up here, looks like a great sinus infection" Pus is such a gross word. Go get the prescriptions filled, head home, put the uterus migraine in the back of my mind.

After putting away groceries, making lunch, cleaning up a bit, and reading to buttercup I realize that it is getting close to dinner time. I have these adorable and tasty looking ham and cheese quinoa bites pinned that I've been dying to make so I rinse my quinoa, put it in water, and pop the pot on the stove. By now my uterus migraine is really getting my attention so I call teen into action and ask her to keep tot occupied so I can soak in a warm bath. Oh yeah, I forgot all about that quinoa on the stove. I fill the tub up with stupid hot water, a few drops of almond oil, and some spearmint essential oil and slowly sink down into bliss. Then I smell it. The acrid smell of burning. I could almost taste it. I sat straight up and shouted "teen, is there water in that pot?" The reply is "no...no and should I turn the stove off, it is on 9" NINE?! What? I never cook in 9!I put it on high AND forgot about it. I have a feeling Mensa won't be calling me this year. So I rush to put on my ratty night shirt and run into the kitchen leaving a trail of wet footprints in my wake. the quinoa was burnt. All of it. Black and crispy. And then my uterus laughed. It really did, I heard that bitch giggle from within.

So I did what any other mom of the year would do. I scoured the pot for 45 minutes with some salt and lemon juice (where in the hell are the steel wool pads?) and put on another pot of quinoa and made a nice, gourmet dinner.

Oh wait, that was Martha...this is reality.

I poured the kids some fruit loops and peeled them each a banana. At least they had real fruit.

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