Once again, I have nothing in particular to say. I miss the sunshine, I love my house, I hate my belly, I enjoy my funny kids, I endure my baby's neediness, I'm not sure how I feel about my husband. I'm not the kind who can go between two extremes without getting tremendously seasick. Going from "My husband is the most fabulous thing on the planet" to "I've never wanted to punch someone so hard in my whole life" within a couple hours, it makes me want to take my head off and set it down until it stops spinning. I didn't even have mood swings when I was a teenager. Maybe I'm getting my emotional adolescence now, 15 years late. If that's the case, maybe I would feel better if I finished off this post with a string of cuss words and suicide threats.
Nope, nothing's coming to me. Drawing a blank. Guess I'll go punch my husband instead.
(muffled "OUCH!")
"Go read my blog, Mr. Universe." I love that man. I mean, look what he has to put up with.
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