I'm gonna whine for just a minute.
It has been one heck of a week. It was the first week of school. Both girls have colds, so we've only managed to squeeze in a lesson here and there between long bouts of laying on the couch, sneezing everywhere and a constant flow of nasal mucous.
My basement flooded, and I've been dealing with slightly rude flood clean-up guys for the past four days. They keep saying they're going to be here at a certain time, and they don't show up. It's finally cleaned up and put back together, but it was definitely a hassle. And the chemicals from the carpet cleaner give me a headache.
I'm supposed to be having a yard sale this weekend. The ad is already paid for, so I can't back out. That means there is junk piled high all over my house, awaiting the sale on Saturday. Junk and clutter irritate me. And of course, the Two Little Girls keep pulling things from the yard sale pile, trying to negotiate with me about selling them. I've now got the yard sale piles covered with sheets.
My dog - who is fully potty trained and has always been reliable - has pooped in the basement twice, and peed on my bed, and all over the kitchen.
Added to the toddler that still keeps pooping in her underwear and occasionally peeing wherever she happens to be standing, I am SO done cleaning it all up.
Two Little Girls are usually pretty well behaved and get along beautifully. Today, they have been replaced by Satan's spawn. Snotty attitudes, fighting and arguing and yelling, talking back and refusing to do anything I ask them to. Let's all pray tonight that Satan takes back his spawn and returns my sweet children.
I bought fifty pounds of peaches this afternoon at farmer's market, because I'd promised the farmer I'd be there this week to do so. Every time I walk into the kitchen, those fifty pounds of peaches are staring at me, taunting me, reminding that I'm crazy.
My birthday is only two days away, and birthdays depress me. Thinking about being Closer To Thirty kind of makes me want to cry.
Alright, I'm done whining. When the peaches are canned and the yard sale is over and I'm Closer To Thirty, when the snot stops running and Two Little Girls remember how to behave, and when I find a way to keep all the excrement contained, I'll feel much better.
So just in case you were wondering, life's not always perfect here, either. :o)