I Can Hit the High Notes...Ask My Dog
/Lately, I've been feeling a tad stressed and burned out. Getting through the holidays and Bug's birthday has been more difficult than I anticipated. Stupid me for thinking two years would be enough time to allow one's soul to fully recover from the devastating loss of one's youngest child.
Nobody ever said I was the brightest bulb in the package.
Compound that with the fact the kids haven't been to school once this week...that's right...they're playing video games as we speak because of the cold climate and a well timed teacher development day, I'm going a little stir crazy.
All right, that may have been a mild understatement. Yesterday my daughter wanted to know why I was talking to myself in a British accent while rocking back and forth in the corner. It's time for this mommy to get the hell out of the house before I do something crazy like strap on an apron and start baking cookies.
So I'm taking a few days to get my head on straight, find my funny again and remember the heart does go on.
(Picture me imitating Celine as I wander down the grocery store aisle.)
Of course, my husband is on his way home, I have no razors to shave my legs and I currently resemble a wildebeest, so I may be back sooner rather than later, depending if he feels like getting frisky with a screechy, sad hairy wildebeesty-wife.
How's that for a mental image to tide you over?
Be back soon. Promise.
Nobody ever said I was the brightest bulb in the package.
Compound that with the fact the kids haven't been to school once this week...that's right...they're playing video games as we speak because of the cold climate and a well timed teacher development day, I'm going a little stir crazy.
All right, that may have been a mild understatement. Yesterday my daughter wanted to know why I was talking to myself in a British accent while rocking back and forth in the corner. It's time for this mommy to get the hell out of the house before I do something crazy like strap on an apron and start baking cookies.
So I'm taking a few days to get my head on straight, find my funny again and remember the heart does go on.
(Picture me imitating Celine as I wander down the grocery store aisle.)
Of course, my husband is on his way home, I have no razors to shave my legs and I currently resemble a wildebeest, so I may be back sooner rather than later, depending if he feels like getting frisky with a screechy, sad hairy wildebeesty-wife.
How's that for a mental image to tide you over?
Be back soon. Promise.