Doldrums

Disclaimer - My life is good.  Don't get me wrong.  I'm a lucky, luck girl.  I am however, in a rut.  A little depressed.  I have really sore legs.  My grandma always said that if you aren't happy to fake it and after a while you will be.  I'm working on that.

In other news.....

The weather was so warm the first few days of the week but so windy. I cannot take my allergy asthma boys out in the wind or bad things happen. We've been watching Cars. I'm so sick of Cars.

My life these days is that of a short order cook. You name it, I seem to be fixing it. I've entered the land I've always chided my mother for...the land of separate meals. Why my oldest will no longer eat what his dad and I do I cannot say. Why my baby eats nothing but air I'm not quite sure. I do know however that I'm getting tired of three different things for breakfast lunch and dinner. That's the life, right?

Every evening there are about 12 cars parked on my street. Some are parked in garages, but most are on the street. In front of my house. It looks like I'm always having a party. I'm not.

I quit my job in December. I have yet to figure out where those extra 20 hours a week were supposed to fit in so I could "do stuff".

Every basketball team I cheer for sucks. My babies steal my phone to play games and watch shows. I spend most my computer time watching sesame street songs and Disneyland rides on you tube.

My husband is literally never around. Since after Thanksgiving he's AWOL except for late night appearances to eat cold dinners and help put the kids to bed. It sucks. I'm done with it. I need a voodoo doll for his girlfriend to start poking pins in. He needs a day off like I need a new pink cardigan.

I've totally become a Mary Kay make-up girl. Can you believe it? Ridiculous, I know. And whats worse, the drive to my Mary Kay lady, on a good day, is 90 minutes round trip.

I'm working on a big family history project. It's turning into something bigger than I thought. It will be great when I get it finished, but right now it's overwhelming and as I sit on my computer every night listening to Cd's of my grandma tell stories I just cry. And cry.

My boys are funny.  They make me laugh every day.  Wyatt yells "GABBA" when he wants to watch his favorite show and yesterday Elliott got to be the special helper at school.  When his teacher told him it was his turn he jumped in the air, did several fist pumps, and yelled, "Yes!"

We need to have more dance parties around these parts.

I don't seem to ever drive fast enough.

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Spring, where the freak are you?