"****'s house of pain." That's how my neighbor once answered my telephone for me. (It was DH's regular hour to call, so no harm was done.)
It seems that I'm in a rant mood lately. DH was telling family stories at work, and some of his coworkers are nurses who started to toy with the idea of post-partum depression. DH replied. "No. I don't think so. She's usually like this."
Stresses of life. Stresses of running a household. My hat is off to any one who decides to tackle the detritus of family life full-time. I've said this again and again to my coworkers: "I'd rather be here." Here being work. It's sooooo much easier then being a domestic god/dess.
Don't get me wrong, I'm enjoying not having to listen to customer complaints for this year off. I know I'll look back on this time away with longing. It's the whole while-in-the-thick-of-it that's getting to me.
I once heard another parent say to their nagging child "This is an opportunity to try to exercise patience." I keep telling myself that, and "this too shall pass".
Oooh. Sounds like workmen are back on site!
Oh drat. Just CU-2, home sick from school, using the electrical pencil sharpener.
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