Monday, September 16, 2013
Let me paint a picture for you of my afternoon. After work and a full afternoon of appointments, it's 5pm. That's the witching hour around here. Everyone is tired/hungry/psychotic. None of us are at our best. The house is a disaster because I've been gone all day. Esme didn't have a nap for the same reason. Dinner needs to be made. I'm laying on my bedroom floor after throwing up. I'm not sick, I'm stupid. turns out coffee all day + no food= upset stomach. My body was all "uh no thank you. We're not doing this". My compassionate six year old is yelling at me to stop throwing up and MAKE DINNER. My three year old is having a midlife crisis because I turned on the wrong calliou and also Barbie is wearing a purple hat on the kindle game when OBVIOUSLY SHE SHOULD BE WEARING A PINK ONE!!! It's Norman Rockwell over here. I have to survive one hour until my husband comes home. I briefly consider cookies for dinner, but nix that idea because I will pay dearly in over excited kids. I manage to throw something remotely healthy together (and by healthy, I mean there was a vegetable on the plate). It's Monday. I need a vacation. I don't have a witty, feel good ending. The end.