Ahhhh, Butt Sniffing!

Guess who ended up coming home after all.

Guess who isn't fixed. 

Guess who spent the whole evening last evening sniffing butts. (And trying to "make friends and influence other 'male' dogs.")

Guess who had to explain the joys of butt sniffing (and other male dog behaviors) to her children. 

Guess whose children think butt sniffing is a great way to go. (They're undecided on the other behaviors.)

Guess who drinks out of the toilet.

Guess whose children think drinking out of the toilet is a great way to go.

Guess who is about to go swirly herself to make it all stop.

(For the rest of Walter's story you can visit the Zoo later today.  I'm sure there will be plenty to write about!)

Oh For the love of the Vacuum!

Lil' Red (our vacuum) blew up.  I mean smoke belching, dirt flying, sparks crackling blew up.  That was a month ago.  Today I finally went out and replaced her.  No, I have NOT been letting my house go "Hoarders" on us or anything but I am tired of traipsing over to Neighbor's to borrow his. 

And if you have to buy a vacuum, why not just bite it and go for the Dyson, right?  So I did.  Hubs is not a fan - but then he didn't realize that Red was kablooie either.  So after much discussion we have made peace with a new vacuum.

But somewhere in there between frustration over having or borrowing, or getting something cheaper that may or may not handle that death trap that is the playroom, he slipped in, "So if I could bring home a year and a half old standard poodle, would you be ok with that?"

You know that point in a "discussion" where you just surrender and say "yeah, sure" to just about anything?  Man, does he have timing.  On top of that, do you know what this dog's name is?  Max.  As in the same name as the Jack Russel that is already in residence.  And it's still in puppy phase.  And it's a poodle.  A big, black poodle.

I need to have my head examined.  The only saving grace in this right now is that we are coming to the end of summer so it would give the children something to do for the last four weeks before school returns and I would have time to work with it in training when they go back.

But it's a poodle.

All I wanted was a new vacuum!

How to Feed Mom Guilt

I'm pregnant with Mom Guilt this evening. Ha! You thought I was announcing that I was pregnant?! You ain't from these parts are ya?

No, I'm just being over run with Mom Guilt tonight and I need to vent it.

I sit and watch my friends' children excel in literacy and extracurriculars and pretty much everything they put their little hands to. And then I look at my first month of school.

Weeks one and two: had almost daily e-mails and phone conferences with boy's teachers to deal with behavior issues.

Week three: get the letter that #1 girl needs to be referred for help with literacy because she may be demonstrating signs of dyslexia and they want to get her help as quickly as possible.

Week three: also get referral paperwork to get boy into speech therapy which we knew was coming but still...

Week four (that's this week): realize hours after the children have gone to bed that I have completely forgotten to work with #1 girl on her site words for this week and her address which she is supposed to have memorized in the next two weeks.

Parent conferences are two weeks away and I feel like a big old flop.

But then I sat on my bed and I read books with them and they hugged me super close and didn't want to stop. They crawled in their beds and we all said it together:

Good night.
I love you!
And when you wake up in the morning
I'll love you even more.

I have to keep reminding myself that I have to give to them from every area. I have to play as much as I work. I have to listen as much as I talk. And I have to get some sleep.

Mom Guilt sucks up exhaustion like a dog following behind a cookie eating toddler. She'll be fine. She may have to work harder and I'll have to be more patient; but she'll be fine. And eventually he'll meet someone who speaks his language, right?

In the meantime, I'm looking forward to morning.

*************

It's morning and I think the boy hacked my blogger and read this post.

Two hours into school and the school murse called to ask me to come get him. He has had another potty accident and is having a melt down about cleaning himself up.

I got there and he looked up at me from red ringed teary eyes and a drippy nose and gasped out, "I missed you Mommy. Did you miss me?"

What do you do? You know that he acted inappropriately and that he needs to have some kind of punishment. You waver because you SHOULD send him back to class and not give him what he wanted in the first place. And then he melts down at the very thought and you see the exhaustion in his face. He slept a full night last night but he was just "off" this morning when you got him up.

I resigned myself to bringing him home and he is spending the day in his room in "solitary." But we had a long talk about how I DO miss him when he's at school but that just makes me that much happier to see him when he gets home. And I want him to get smart and learn all kinds of stuff so he can teach me and he can't do that from home. He needs to go to school. He cried because he could see my dissapointment which of course ripped my heart out.

And Mom Guilt gorged on the whole scenario because now I am questioning AGAIN if I sent him to school too soon. Maybe he just wasn't ready yet.

Jane, stop this crazy thing called ...... Parenting. (Bonus points if you can name that movie.)

"You Should be Baking!"

I have become a bit of a Facebook junkie. There - I admitted it. Moving on.

We went to a football party at a friends' home Saturday night and as has become the norm for our circle of friends, I was asked to bring my chocolate chip cookies. Now you may call me weird. You may call me a bold faced liar. You may call me any name in the book but I promise I tell the truth with my next line. Of every 6 dozen batch of chocolate chip cookies I make, I eat maybe 3 on a good round. Not 3 dozen. I eat 3.

I have been told that these are the best cookies on the planet. The same friend who we were visiting is also a tremendous fan of the chocolate covered cherries. I am a bit afraid of the Christmas party this year because I have promised Oreo truffles and I am petrified of his reaction.

Why would I be afraid that someone will enjoy my confections? Because my friend has decided that it is my calling to open a sweets shop/bakery to peddle my wares. This is a bad time of year to suggest it to me. Because once again, I can be sold.

I would love to have my own shop. I would love to be able to get up at 3 AM (properly caffeinated of course); go bake for several hours; take my "lunch" break to go see the children off to school; go back and bake a while longer and be home when they got out of school. It would be a great job for me!

Here's the problem. I am a leg work person. I do not have a business head. I do not have invest able capital and I would hate to try to manage some one and teach them how to make my confections. I have barely been able to teach my children. And there is no way I could begin to deal with allergy labels, ingredient lists, industrial equipment costs, product pricing, and any catering or special order concepts.

Put me in my kitchen and let me bake and I am a happy girl. Muddle my oven with all that other stuff and you might as well turn off the gas. I fear that taking my baking to the next level would kill it. But then again, what if it is just fear holding me back?

So when my friend looked at me and said "Every time I see you post something on Facebook, I think, 'You should be baking,' " he started the annual fall day dream. The great what if parade that makes me wonder if I couldn't pull it off.

But then I'd have to come up with a catchy name, and who has time to be that creative? I have quizzes to take and farms to tend on Facebook!

Happy Blogoversary, Quirky!

Woo Hoo! I made it to a year. And I still have regular readers. Not many, but they are there. And I greatly thank all four of you. You are so very sweet. Go have a Little Debbie on me.

So I guess you guys think you know me because I got a whopping (brace for it) 2 questions from last week's interview invite. That's ok. I don't find myself very interesting either. But maybe I will by the end of this post.

To the questions first:

My bloggy buddy Staci asked me "How do you stay sane? Because I think I just may be losing it!"

See people! I AM so sane. Staci says so! So stop trying to get me into that mattress room already!

Ok, so honestly? I think you have to lose it a little. I think if you don't go a little crazy, you end up with much bigger issues. I also think that I have managed to hang on to what little I have left simply by being a horrible creature of habit. I have routines that I do in my sleep some mornings/evenings. How else do you make sense of me getting up at 2 AM and making coffee and then going right back to bed? (It was darn good coffee too!) And I wonder why the boy is having some OCD issues...

And Amanda sent me this little query. "You kinda left us hanging on the new neighbor situation. How's that going?"

Funny you should ask. It's very odd being a "young married couple" (both of us are still in our 30's) with 3 children. Our old neighbors were 30's with no children and were off to the lake and football games and concerts and long cruise vacays all the time. Our new neighbors may be a smidge younger but they too are out and about every weekend. We keep trying to get together for dinner (we've managed once) but midweek is really the only time they are home and with the kids back in school, late nights midweek just don't work. So for now we see each other briefly on the weekends and will eventually get to know them. It's just going to take a while.

And since that's all the questions there were, I'm going to inflict some Facts about Me on you.

Three Things that Annoy me:
1. People who repeat themselves repeat themselves repeat themselves. I heard you the first time and chose to ignore you. If I needed to hear you again, I would have asked you to repeat yourself. ONCE. Please note - it's not limited to children who repeat themselves, repeat themselves...well you get it. It's ALL people who do it.

2. Empty things that are just left behind. If it's garbage, pitch it. If it needs to be refilled, fill it. Please do not leave it for me.

3. Perfectly capable people who ask for stupid things that they could do or get for themselves. It's a paper towel and it's 2 feet from you. I have to walk 10 YARDS to get it for you. And before you ask me to get it for you will you at least make an effort to find it/get it for yourself? I am not a member of the sporting group; I do not retrieve.

Three Things that will Tick me off:
1. Being inconsiderate of those around you. Please do not stop in the middle of the grocery aisle with your cart sitting cattywampus so that you can read the labels of 16 Progresso soup cans to see if they contain leeks. Pay attention moron before I V-8 you in front of your family and yo momma!

2. Children who's parents did not take the time to teach them manners and the parents who expect me to tolerate their 9 year old kicking my 2 year old in the head. I will turn the parent over my knee and make sure they stand at attention for a month for that one. And the child? Will become my indentured servant and when they can demonstrate that they will never make the mistake their parent made, I will release them to military school.

3. Finding out that someone not only found my secret Hershey's stash in the back of the freezer, but they disposed of it as well. This is a crime punishable by a week scrubbing the toilet with a toothbrush. Some folks in this house better hope they have practiced some serious dental hygiene.

And finally Three Things that Amuse me:

1. People watching. I hate shopping but I will go sit in the food court for a good laugh every now and then. You can see them. The mall employees who would rather hang themselves by their badge lanyards. The teenie bopper girls who suddenly start to strut when a cute guy hits their radar (usually the employees who probably want to hang themselves BECAUSE of the teenie boppers). The dads who are pushing a stroller containing a screamer and frantically scanning the food court for someone, ANYONE who might resemble their wife. And the wives who are hiding in the little cut outs in the wall that keep peeking their heads out to giggle at their hubbies.

2. Holier than thou attitudes. Nothing amuses me more than people who complain about other people but won't name names because they don't want to smear the offender. Ummm, I think you missed it. These people make my amusement list because they seem to miss the part where they are dropping right to the level of the people they are fussing about. "I don't like whiners so I'm going to stand here and whine about the whiners that I don't like." I think that's funny.

3. Life. Life amuses me because Mrs. Gump was right; you never know what you're going to get. You may think you know what the big story on the news is going to be. You may think you know how a person is going to react to something you have to tell them. You may think you have it all figured out. But then a fly shoots up your nose, causes you to sneeze into your boss's lemonade and the video that tomorrow's blind date catches from the next table ends up being a viral sensation on YouTube.

So I work my way back around to Staci's question and the answer is - Go ahead. Lose it. It will be all right.

Thank you all for hanging out with me for the past year. May the next one be as fun as this one. And may your water always be blue and always go down.

And the Neighbor Verdict is In.

I'm getting new neighbors. Well, I guess technically I HAVE new neighbors but we'll come back to that.

After three nail biting weeks, the neighbors closed their house. The new folks finally got financing worked out and the deal closed on Tuesday. Neighbors had a parade of trucks here on Wednesday moving everything out and this afternoon the truck pulled in with all the new neighbors' stuff.

I briefly met him when I offered our driveway for parking if he had more helpers coming but didn't really speak for long.

Here's why I say they are here technically. They are getting married...Tomorrow.

All the ladies reading just gasped in horror. That's right darlings. The new neighbor-ette is putting the finishing touches on her wedding while her groom tries to move all their things into their new house which they won't really be in for another week or so while they are honeymooning. They have rehersal tonight, wedding tomorrow, honeymoon for a week and then they get to move in.

I have been digging very deep to find and upside to this for her and this is the best I can come up with. At least this way when she opens her wedding presents, she doesn't have to "find" a place for them. She can just put them away with everything else. That's about the only plus to this I can find.

I of course have already started planning the grill out that will happen once they get settled. I'm thinking we could just jump right in and initiate them with all the summer favorites but if I give it to them all at once, what will I have for the rest of the summer? I guess I have a few weeks to figure it out.

Here's to new neighbors - if I HAVE to have them.

On a side note. My neighbors (the old ones) made me take a picture of them sayig farewell to their house. Could they be more cruel? I think we all got a little teary but that's what happens when you make good friends.

Thank goodness they are only moving half an hour away!

Word-something Wednesday: Solar Powered!

Now really Wordless. Not really Wordful. So I'm Word Something today! Yup. Feeling pretty random. Let's talk.

Remember this picture from say January something?

That was me after a winter in the basement. Not pretty at all. Quite grotesque actually! I can admit it. I know what cave dwelling does for me.

Well, this is me now after a mere week of sunshine.

You can't really tell because of the web cam quality but I already have a jump start on my tan and I've lost 3 pounds of winter "fur" (at least that's what we'll call it).

Thank the Big Man upstairs for sunshine and potting soil. Too many more days of rain and gray and I might have actually gone round the bend! Think I can claim to be eco friendly if I myself am solar powered?

You May Have Noticed

that my writing has slowed down a little lately.

I was losing my inspiration. I was tired of Bloggy Land and all the nonsense that goes with it. On top of that the entire family (dog included) managed to catch the flu. Add the financial crunch that everyone is finding themselves in these days and I just could not shake the funk.

So I took a day off. I went out after church and did some dream shopping for a laptop/netbook at Best Buy and priced the oh so necessary external hard drive. Not that the entire family who was all trying to look at the same box slammed right up against the shelf even noticed me on my tip toes trying to see price tags and sizes over their heads.

Then I headed over to JoAnn's to see if I could find a pattern for a skirt for Easter (only a month away! Eeek!) and ended up talking to my parents from the pattern counter (weird) and walking out with nothing.

So then it was to Target to get the famous clippers (or they will be when the post goes up at The Zoo). And then I looked at the clock. I've only been out of the house for an hour and a half?! I can't surrender yet! I hate shopping and the mall makes me break out in hives so where will I go next? How will I make this brief recess last? I refuse to go to the grocery store. That's not recess.

And there it was. Beautiful B & N. Resist the urge to go snag a caramel machiatto. I was struck with some inspiration as I wandered through the stacks of books. There was a child laughing in the children's section and I thought, "I could use a good laugh!"

Tucked back in a corner there was the humor section. Entirely too small and not nearly enough copies of any one book for my tastes but at least it was still there. Smashed in behind the religious fiction and wedged in front of the "teach yourself to play the oboe" book.

So I started to scan the titles. An entire section of the shelf was dedicated to bathroom humor. You would think from the title of this blog I would be more appreciative but a whole rack of books about bathroom humor? I kept scanning. Now we come across Lewis Black and Dennis Leary and their cohorts railing against all things political. Here are two full racks of comic strips. I will not speak against them. My faves were there. Calvin and Hobbes, The Far Side, Baby Blues, Fox Trot and of course the Classic Peanuts. Bless you Mr. Schultz.

But just general musing about life humor was scarce. And then I saw them. Down on the bottom shelf in small pocket size paperback form were the four titles I was looking for. There was my muse for seven dollars a piece. Erma Bombeck. I picked up a copy and started to read and while I was not laughing out loud there was a poingnacy in her writing that made me smile. A real connection that just made me feel at home. A quiet humor that did not speak of bathrooms, or politics, or naked bodies (unless you count feet). It was not angry. It was not laced with foul language or explicit suggestions.

Call me old fashioned. Call me a prude. I'll wear both ideas with pride. Life is weird. It's strange and it's funny and when you really look at the nonsense that happens every day you have to laugh. You HAVE to. If you don't laugh about it your only other options are to get angry, give up, or cry. I picked one of the four titles out for myself and brought it home with me. Every time I pick it up I only allow myself to read one short chapter at a time. Like I'm savoring a bag of Lindor truffles one small bite at a time.

I have been inspired again. I have decided that how many posts I get out to you is not the critical part. I have to make sure that I make you laugh or at the very least, smile. I have to make people see that anger and vulgarity aren't necessary in life. There is enough ugliness in the world. It's time to laugh at just the general strangeness of it all.

You HAVE to laugh. You have to laugh because when you can laugh and you can share that laughter with other people, they get to laugh. Life is just too weird not to laugh and share the laughter.

My Place in this World!

Jen, at TuTu's Bliss stopped by yesterday and left me some love so being the good, kind and friendly blogger I am (most of the time) I popped back over and checked out her page. Holy Homecoming! It's good to know that there are people out there like me.

She has a great little meme (and I know I'm not the biggest meme fan) called Two Cents. Could there be a more perfect meme for me? I give my two cents all the time so finally I have a reason!

This week's topic of course is Romance what with V-Day coming and all. So here's my two cents on romance. I think romance evolves. So many people say that the romance is gone in their relationships after they have children. I don't think it's gone. Maybe dusty. Maybe a little more evasive but I don't think it every really "goes."

I think romance evolves. I don't get cards and dates and flowers every week anymore. But I get help with the baths. I get someone else to clean the kitchen now and then. I get a hand putting away the laundry or an afternoon to myself from time to time. Sure! The flowers and dates and monkey love scream "I LOVE YOU!" But those other things whisper "I value you." "I want to help you." "We're in this together."

They also blurt out, "Where did all this water come from?" "Who didn't rinse their dishes before they put them in the dishwasher?" "Honey where's the cheese (that is always in the deli drawer if one would move things around and look for 2 minutes)?" "Why are the underwear all mixed up?" And "When are you coming home? I need a nap"

But you know evolution isn't always pretty. Welcome to the primordial slime of love!

Journey on a Winding Road: Could there be a Better Day?

This has been absolutely one of the worst days in a long while. I barely slept last night despite going to bed at 10:30. I woke up with strange dreams; I couldn't get comfortable in my own bed; my brain was running like a freight train. I woke up more exhausted than when I went to bed.

The children have been fighting all day. And not just "He's picking on me!" fighting. They have been pulling hair, attempting to scratch faces, squealing, screaming and generally in one another's faces to the point that I'm not sure which child is which.

The noise has been beyond unbearable. The cacophany of squeals and screeches has smashed into the glaring yaps and barks of the two dogs trying to chase squirrels off the deck from inside the house. The TV's clamor has only compounded the already pounding ruckus and chaos.

And my ears seem to be the only ones registering any sound. "Please clean up your playroom, " was met with jumping up and down and screaming and wailing and gnashing of teeth. I had to leave the room to control my temper and apparently did a really pitiful job of it because my hairbrush snapped in half in my hands.

I would cry but I can't. I would yell but that would just be more noise. I would take a nap but what's the point? My body seems completely unfamiliar with all versions of rest.

***********************************************************************************

And that is what a bad day looks like to me. On a good day I would have told you that the children were making me crazy with their picking at one another. The dogs never would have registered and I would have used words like "whining," "temper fit," "giggles," and "shrill laughter."

On a good day I would still have a hairbrush. On a good day I would throw in the towel, pop some popcorn and let us all just veg out for the afternoon.

But today isn't a good day. Today I am on a low. Today I am facing the fact that I am one of millions of Americans with undiagnosed depression who has not sought professional help and who probably won't because of the stigma that I see attached to it.

Perception is reality so this is my perception and therefore my reality in regards to depression. People who are suffering from depression are on medications that they cannot function without. Women who are suffering from depression are one missed snack away from becoming unfit mothers who can't distinguish hallucinations from reality. Admitting depression means I need to be on a couch somewhere discussing my childhood with a perfect stranger in an attempt to regulate my medication.

Is any of this true? Absolutely not! Women can be good mothers and still cope with depression. People who are on medications for depression are just like people who being treated for any other ailment - they are doing it to feel better. Depression does not equal therapy although some people can benefit from it and resolve some of the causes of thier depression through the treatment.

This is where I am beginning my journey. But because I have a serious aversion to going to the doctor; because I would rather shove bamboo under my finger nails than even attempt taking an asprin; because I inherited incredible stubbornness from my grandfather, I am going to take every step and "natural" path I can before I look to a doctor and pharmaceuticals. Call it foolish. Call it making things harder. But it's my journey.

I hope to share successes and failures. I'll be researching and studying and sharing my journey but don't worry. The Bowl won't be dedicated to me and my situation. Depression is a PART of my life but not every day is a bad day.

Because I'm not a Big Fat Liar.

It's the New Year. Everyone is reflecting on the year that has past and planning for the year to come. I wish I could say that I was living on the edge and doing nothing of the sort but that would make me a Big Fat Liar.

All over the place people are sharing their reflections and their plans and resolutions. And I wish I could say that I'm going to give you a break on all of that. But again - Big Fat Liar. I would prefer to start the new year with a better reputation than that so I will take the high road.

The Year in Review. I was an at home mom for the whole year. I started a motivational/accountability group over at Cafe Mom and developed a really strong core of friends who take me for what I am in all of my nonsense. It was at their encouragement that I started a blog. Which led to another blog (that would be this one). Yes the Bowl is the red headed step child and before anyone gets offended, I'm a red head too! Get over it. Blogging led to becoming a part of the MomDot community which in turn led to another group of friends.

Sunrise? Sunset?

I started knitting and sewing again. I became close with a neighbor only to have her life completely change and suddenly she was gone. I met my in laws for the first time (don't even ask) and watched my sister in law get married with my children's assistance. Beloved got a promotion, and we survived all the long hours and training only to have the economy tank and endure the crush of a demotion.

I watched history be made through the political process and I welcomed my brother in law home from Iraq. I cruised through the holidays with minimal stress and even managed to pull off another homemade holiday that meant more to my family than any time I could have spent in the mall (which I managed to avoid for the entire holiday season!).

And here I am. Sitting at the jumping off point of a new year. I would love to tell you what is in store. In a continued effort to avoid the Big Fat Liar label, I won't even try. I did not make any resolutions. I am not making any plans. There is something about going into the new year with an empty basket that is strangely exciting.


Every year is a journey. This year I plan to open my personal journey up a little more and let folks get to know the me that tries to live outside the walls of the Zoo.


So Happy New Year. May your goals be realistic. May your motivation be steady. And may you be surrounded by people who love you even when you fall down.

Is the Media out to Just Tick me off This Week?

New Hampshire is looking as shaving 2 years off of high school so that we can send students to college at 16 instead of 18! No kidding! Check out Should Kids Be Able to Graduate After 10th Grade? and take time to read the full article.

I am having a hard time figuring out where to even start with this. I want education improved in our country. I am all for mandatory Pre-K and higher teacher salaries. I would even be in favor of the idea put forward by The West Wing - the GI bill version for teachers. Get a teaching degree and we'll pay for it if you will teach for at least x number of years - and maintain a high standard of performance.

I will NOT rush my children through school. I would be appalled to send a 16 year old off to college. These poor kids have barely wrapped up puberty and you are sending them to college? If you thought you had a problem with underage drinking before, toss a glut of 16 year olds into the mix. At least the states would be able to raise revenues from DUI fines and arrests.

I graduated right after my 18th birthday. I went to college in the fall and I declared a major right away. I hated my college and I hated my major so I transferred and changed majors. I busted hump in college and finished on time (in spite of transferring) with a BA in Christian Studies. Ask me how I'm using that now. Yeah, I'm not! Ask me what I would have majored in. Business. Or I might not have even gone to a traditional four year and I would have gone to culinary school instead and become a master chef somewhere or at least a pastry chef.

How can you expect a 16 year old to know what they want to major in? And if they are graduating at 20 what happens next? Are they really ready for the corporate battle ground?

I really think between the growth hormones yesterday and New Hampshire education today that there is a conspiracy to make children grow up too fast and another one to just tick me off!

Thursday Thirteen

Last evening hubby and I were closing up the house for bed. As he slid the deck door shut, he heard something so he called me over. "Honey? Was that an OWL?!" No. That was two owls having quite a conversation in the trees a few houses down the street. We sat on the deck and listen to them chat for a while and then went to bed. But it got me thinking...

I grew up in the country. And by country, I mean middle of no where. My sister and I eventually stopped trying to give people directions to our actual house. We would give them directions to the town close by and then go get them and lead them in. That's how far out we were. And now I live less than a mile from four grocery stores. But I miss it...

Thirteen Things I miss about living in the country.

*

Sleeping on the deck chaise all summer long

*

The Milky Way band that you could see arcing over our house on a summer night

*

Peeper frogs right before the rain

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Waking up on a Sunday morning to a flock of turkeys on the deck

*

Riding bike until disk and never worrying someone was going to get me

*

My folks knowing the instant I crossed the county line on my way home for college breaks

*

Never having to rake leaves

*

Planting a garden

*

Carnival food and tractor shows

*

The smell of fresh cut hay

*

An old country store good for everything from milk to building supplies; guns to coating chocolate

*

Family reunions where the neighbors stopped by and were welcome

*

Clotheslines and the smell of sun dried sheets

Welcome to Black Saturday

I know as women we really hate it when guys blame our moods on PMS. By the same token, I hate it when women use PMS as an excuse for their behavior. Nothing gives you the right to be ugly and just downright mean. There's still a call for manners and common courtesy.

That being said - I won't be leaving the house today. It's Black Saturday. The day in the pill pack when I am mean and spiteful and I pick fights and I yell and I'm grumpy and just ugly in general. But I know I'm that way. So I avoid people and I avoid putting myself in situations where tact and kindness are required.

And it always happens that the children refuse to listen or they pitch fits for no reason or they are whiny. So on top of my already grumpy hormonal state of mind, I have to deal with kid drama. Did I mention that beloved always gets stuck at the office for at least a full extra hour if not 2 every Black Saturday? And he really does get stuck. It's not that he realizes it's Black Saturday and he's avoiding coming home - he's oblivious; it's just my bad luck.

So here it is. Black Saturday. My house hasn't been cleaned in a week because I've been sick so I've taken BS out on the house. The laundry and the kitchen are all that is left and it's not even lunch time yet.

Wow that was cleansing. Maybe admitting you have a problem really IS the first step to recovery.