GIVE ME ALCOHOL

I'M A LITTLE STRESSED.
Woops. I'll stop with the all caps. Alright. Let me explain.

My dear and loving husband has been training for his first MMA (mixed martial arts, cage fighting) fight for about 4 months now. His fight is TONIGHT. *TONIGHT* Yup. I'm freaking.

He loves it. He found something that he has a passion for (other than me and the gremlins, of course). His instructor has the utmost confidence in him. Carl knows he's ready.

UM. HELLO?!?! Anyone ask me if I was ready? Well, I'm NOT!! I believe in him, but ugh. I don't know how I'm going to handle it!! I can handle seeing other people fight, but my husband?!?!

I'll say it again, GIVE ME ALCOHOL. Mom's going to have the boys, and my friend Trisha is going up with me. I'm SO having some shots right when I get up there! (it's by Quaker Steak & Lube- I guess they have a outside arena)

Oh, and top off my beautiful Friday, the boys had their yearly checkups today. You know what that means. SHOTS!!! Woo-hoo! Bring on the freeze pops!

*sorry, got excited when I wrote the word 'shots'. Not *those* kinds of shots. OK, let's continue.

Owen went first. Scheduled to get 2. Ha. We had to bring in another nurse to hold him down. You would've thought that they were stabbing him repeatedly with a dull knife. Beyond embarrassing. Completely mortifying experience.

Cole got his finger pricked for iron, and a shot. I handled him while the nurse took Owen out to get suckers.

If you ever need a form of birth control, come with me to the pediatrician. Holy Hell.

Dear Lord,
Please grant me patience with my children, and lots of alcohol for tonight.
Oh, and don't let my husband get too much of the shit beat out him.
Thank you,
Karol