In a nutshell, I spend most of my time taking care of our kids, shuttling them to various classes and school, making meals, cleaning house, and trying to carve out a minuscule amount of time for myself in the day. Like every other parent.
Oh, and today marks my 37th birthday.
The morning was spent in the usual way, with breakfast, cartoons, an argument about cartoons ending, and then heading out of the house for the kids gymnastics classes. We did manage to stop at Duffeyroll to get some birthday sugar in our blood, all the more ammo for meltdowns later on. And what I realize is, no matter how many times in the day you might tell your kids that it's your birthday, unless they're older, they really could care less. Mr. B only mildly calmed down when I asked him to after he blew up upon hearing our other food was in the car. And Miss P spent even more time than usual ignoring my requests to come/go/leave. Here's hoping an adult beverage is in my immediate future...




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