I am a strong and capable woman. I take care of my kids. I take of my household. And I do it all with a smile! Yes! I am capable and strong! I am woman! Hear me roar!
Meow. meow moew moew.
My husband left to America on business for a week and I have thus far eaten a box of candy, not gone to the gym, ran my fingers idly through the dirty laundry, cast a disinterested gaze over the piles of dirty dishes, and woke up every 15 minutes at night with a start at the silence in the bed next to mine, saying, "what was that?"
I am tired. My house is a mess. My kids are painting on the walls as we speak and eating leftover breakfast for lunch. I am eating a bag of lettuce since that is all I can stomach after The Candy Incident.
Wah. You don't have to feel bad for me; I feel bad enough for myself.
But, it is enough! Pull yourself together, girl! Turn on some music, pull out the broom, and clean and dance with your babies and dust-mites.
Although I am torn. Because I heard that if you let your dust-mites get big enough, they make very good, very quiet, low-maintainence pets. Then maybe I can cuddle up with one and finally fall into a good, deep sleep.