Back, front.

Today was awful.
So let's backtrack.
Friday was lots of driving. A tired cranky toddler. We arrived at... night. It was like midnight.
Then the bed. Lumpy tired old mattress that is ten sizes too small. And no pillow. Just a small bag of rocks.
The bed was the tiniest ever.
It was toooo small. Too small for the baby and me to lay comfortably. T slept in the other room. P cried all night- she doesn't like travelling apparently and decided to voice her protests.
Branding had been done on Friday, so we missed that, thank God.
The food... was scarce. It's wierd. She cooks lots. Like breakfast was eggs and waffles and fruit and juice and toast. But... it's like... a quarter of a banana, one scrambled egg, one waffle, half a piece of toast and a tiny tiny glass of juice. I was HUNGRY. I still eat for TWO! That just teased my appetite like a girl in a thong.
So after breakfast was cow checking. Involving ear piercings and calf catching. I drove the four-wheeler. That is kinda fun, I guess sorta. I mean... no, it's not really that much fun. There are mountains and so the four-wheeler is constantly tipped in wierd ways and I have sucky balance. There is a bat. A BAT. In case the cows attack. And they do. And I scream like a girl. Or bellow like a cow if we talk ranchy...
I didn't hit them with the bat. I just screamed. They yelled, "grab the bat" and I just screamed. It sucked.
I got pooped on.
Anyways, we searched for kittens but did not find them. But T did play with a kitty. He said, "kitty kitty I" and then poked it in the eye. Also he kissed it a bunch and tried to carry it.
We played find the egg. Which took all of ten minutes and that was Easter celebration apparently.
We played UNO and I schooled everyone 'cause I rock.
I watched What About Brian and in front of everyone I was all, "hmmm, an open marraige... sounds like fun really..." and Husband glared fiercely, and I giggled.
Next I took a shower to try and shave the hair on my legs for church in the morning. I did a shoddy job (that means my legs are half covered in hair, the shower wasn't big enough and I couldn't freaking see my legs and my glasses were fogging over... grrrrrr....). I did a shoddy shave job, didn't cut myself, but ended up with nine boils. Nine boils.
Afterwards I, at the bequest of Husband, showed him my knife. A few seconds later he said that I have horrible knife ettiquette and said that he should take it away from me. I laughed, then licked the blade and smiled viciously. He said I looked like I might kill him. I told him to sleep with his eyes opened.
They made me and T and P get up at 6! The next morning, for breakfast at church. T looked so mean. I thought he was gonna try to rip someone in half. He had the meanest face ever. All because I cut up his food.
Next Easter Dinner. Ha ha, I totally won. I ate FOUR platefulls of food. I just kept saying, "ohh, look, we have ham?" And just served more. T woke up and wanted to eat right as the meal was ending, so I ate another plate then, and then P woke up as T finished, so I quickly scarfed a plate so I'd "have enough for her." Everyone stared amazed. I kept thinking, dang it, I WON"T be hungry tonight. I swear. We ran out of food again...
So then later, everyone was like, "oh, we don't really need dinner...we ate a big lunch." Grrr. I didn't eat THAT big of a lunch... So I was hungry. Eventually I was portioned out a biscuit and the last slice of ham...
That's a meal apparently.
So then night. Night was fiercely awful to the tenth power.
P screamed and cried and then cried and screamed. She was freezing. So I wrapped her and fed her until she slept and my breast was about to tear off. Put her back in her bed. She screamed. I finally just laid with her in bed, and then Husband rolled over on her. And I hit him, and he rolled back. And she was okay. Then he tried again a half hour later, so I hit him harder and screamed "stupid bastard!" and I was tired.
So finally I got her to sleep in her bed after HOURS of fighting and coaxing and feeding and cuddling and fending her off from being squished to death. After forty five minutes of real sleep, I heard her screaming. So I opened my eyes.
Knives. In my eye. I felt it. Both eyes. No warning. It's worse then a papercut.
My eyes.
Tearing apart as I open them. I shoved my hands over my mouth to muffle my scream.
My eyes. My stupid freaking eyes. Dehydration from nursing a dumb baby. Lack of sleep to heal them. MY EYES! I feel that top layer pull apart- not terribly bad, it's not like that time I had to go to the hospital, nah, it's just bad enough to make me moan in pain. Um, bellow like a cow in pain.
P is screaming. I'm muffling my tearless cries.
So I pummel husband. Wake up idiot. Wake. Go, tend baby. I's done.
I close my eyes and wish for death. I sleep for another hour before Husband is shaking me awake.
Awaken! Time for food. If you miss breakfast you don't eat!
I growl at him, not that sexy little kitty kat growl that says, "come on baby..." But that fierce angry tiger growl. Snarling angry woman. Leave me alone. My tummy rumbles. I did lotsa feeding. Lots. Fed baby. Baby boob feeder. MUST REPLENISH.So I sit up and I can't really see.
Eyes. Papercut eyes. Imagine that. That little feeling. That slit. That knowing that it's gonna freaking hurt. In your eyes.
My eyes.
I grumble myself to the table. Everyone is dressed. I sit and cover my eyes. Eyes. Eyes.
They make jokes. "Sleepy? Want coffee? I heard you bellow like a cow last night..."
I snarl like a tiger. Demanding eye drops.
They don't exist.
They DO exist. I inform them. They DO exist. MAKE them appear!
They don't exist.
Not till we find a store. A STORE in this God-forsaken ranch. At least an hours drive. Husband says, "pack the car, I"ll be with the cows. See you in an hour."
I give him mean eyes. Mean papercut eyes. Angry mean papercut eyes.
He packs the car and we go to try and preserve my vision. I don't open my eyes for that whole time. But I can feel the sun. I put on sunglasses.
Eyes.
Papercut eyes.
Finally relief.
Thank God.
Less snarly am I. I feed P. I get pooped on. I clean her, change her, clean her seat, clean my clothes, feed her again. She poops on me again. I start to take my top off in the parkinglot. Free peep show. Come while it's fresh. The poop I mean. Husband announces his utter shame at my existance. Stupid tart.
Stupid baby poopy head.
We go to McDonalds. Meat. Food. Hungry.
T wants to play nintendo. I don't know why there is a nintendo. I'm not caring. I let him play until the food comes. P is hungry.
I start to feed her.
Food comes.
T wants to play. He's been in the car for a week. He wants to PLAY!!
Husband picks him up and holds him on his lap and tries to force feed him. T kicks him and bites him and starts screaming. A real tantrum. He's a strong boy I might add. Husband starts screaming that this is my fault. I don't know who to deal with first. Which child do I settle? T somehow escapes and knocks over a small girl. She screams.
I order the bigger tantrum child to collect the smaller one and sit down and start acting like an adult. He immediately tells T he's going to have to sit in the car alone while we eat.
I just about take out my knife and remove vital organs.
Trade babies.
T is perfectally settled down when I stop the pinching and yelling. He eats and I tell him he can play in a minute. P cries. She's not done eating.
I trade back and tell older child to settle himself down and stop being an ass.
P poops all over my clothes.

*sighs*