*My foot hurts. Still.
*I hate having no medical insurance.
*I think that the Indian clinic and their stupid triage and no appointments policy is the dumbest thing ever.
*I am incredibly sad because I found out last week that our old babysitter who has gone and gotten all grown up on me, lost her baby. She went in for an ultrasound only to find no heartbeat. They are devastated.
*My house is really really messy and I don't want to clean it.
*I want to float around peacefully in my pool and work on my
*I hate it when I get into "cranky mom" mode. It makes me mad at myself that I'm not more patient sometimes. I really do love those kids with every fiber in me. Sometimes I just get tired.
*Shaving your legs is a pain in the rear.
*I want to walk into my kitchen, grab a Hershey's bar, then lock myself in the bathroom, scarf it down and not write down any evidence that that scrumptuous milk chocolate ever passed my lips. But I won't.
*My back hurts because I threw a temper tantrum at my husband yesterday and lugged the back seat of my van from my toyroom to the van and put it in all by my stupid self. When husband tried to help, I said, "Get away from me" through gritted teeth. Boy I showed him.
*I want another tattoo.
*I kind of forgot to pay the truck payment last month. I am going to be in a lot of trouble when I tell my husband. I honestly thought I paid it. If that counts for anything.
*I don't want to make lunch. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah
*My middle child, my only son, just could not wait to get a drink for the two minutes it took me to pee and got up on the counter by himself. Then he knocked one of the Strawberry Shortcake glasses off of the second shelf. I heard it from the bathroom. He said it didn't break. So upon entering the kitchen I checked the glass and sure enough, it wasn't broken. BUT when it fell out of the cabinet it landed on my large Pampered Chef baking stone. My eight year old, perfectly seasoned large round baking stone is broken. I've had it for 8 years!! I lugged it to some 200 kitchen shows and it never so much as got a chip in it. Then a stupid glass falls out of the cabinet and cracks it right down the middle. He felt bad. Mostly because I made him feel bad. I'm a horrible mother, I admit it.
I could whine so much more, but I'm starting to depress myself. Guess I'll go make lunch.
Did I mention I don't want to?