I’m feeling deflated as a writer and blogger today. Good ol’ fashioned pity party. Nothing is meeting my expectations and it’s so darn frustrating. I feel like I’ve come late to the party, all the cool kids are hanging out together and I’m stuck in a corner of the room wondering how not to look like a loser.
Plus, the boys keep fighting, I got teenager attitude from the girl, who isn’t even a teen yet, and the toddler keeps picking out of the garbage can. This is not why I gave birth, ya know. Right now the two eldest are fighting, and Doc just walked in from work, but do they call for him? Nope. I didn’t give birth to be a referee either.
With all that said, I’m thinking of turning off the comments here, that way there is nothing for me to miss. If I’m feeling really daring I’ll pitch the sitemeter, too. I’m sorry for the rant and I hope I’m not sounding like a big baby. I just need to type it all out, think it through, go to Cold Stone Creamery after the kids are strapped tucked in their beds and wallow in yummy-ness. Is that a word? Yummy-ness.
Yes, folks, she needs ice cream.