To use a phrase I hate

… today was hairy.

You’d think after arranging a meager three hours of childcare and blowing half my day and forty dollars at my favorite fabric store in Bainbridge with a friend (writing a bad check and getting in the doghouse from Husband), that I could say I had a GOOD day. But. I didn’t. Instead of my normal witty and urbane comments I want to bang out spoiled, petulant, self-absorbed miseries here but I won’t. I won’t give you the satisfaction.

Mostly my day was hard because I A). had a hectic morning (which at least thankfully did NOT involve any slapping or pants-peeing); and B). had a tough conversation with a dear friend. My tummy hurt over that one.

P.S. One weird thing about being a wife and mother is half your identity relates to being proud your husband is taken care of better than in bachelor days but then you come home at night and end up eating cold spaghetti out of the fridge, exactly what he used to do back in the day.

P.P.S. Another thing – thank God for my own mother. If it wasn’t for her, I would be out of my mind. Some day I will have to thank her instead of constantly giving her shit.

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