Grumble bunnies

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When my kids are grumpy, I call them Grumble Bunnies.  I have become a Grumble Bunny.

I am full on bitchy.  No, that's not right.  I'm sad.  No, that's not it.  It's a combo.  Bad.  Get it?  Bitchy + Sad = Bad.  At least I make myself laugh.

Why am I Bad?  Here, let me list it for you.

I have not had a good parenting week.  And what makes it worse is I've only had one kid (they changed in the middle) and they're staying with their dad!  That just sucks.

I do not feel like being a good daughter.  But I have to.  There is no one else.

Business is booming.  This is fabulous.  But it makes me work until the wee hours of the morning on a regular basis.  I am overwhelmed.

I am still in physical therapy, which hurts, for an accident that wasn't my fault.  This annoys me greatly.

I feel like an alien around those who should know me best.  I don't understand how this is true.

Now, none of this is completely horrible.  The fact is, it's been a decent week.  Why?  Here, I'll list that for you, too.

I had a few canceled/billable jobs this week.  That is always wonderful.

I got good medical news.  No more MRIs for 5 - count 'em FIVE!! - years.

I have a family that loves me.

I have friends I cherish and I know love me.

It's warm out.  This always makes me happy.

So my goal for the weekend, which will give me both girls back, is to breathe.  Relax.  Have fun.  No work, just festivals.  We'll (hopefully) hit the festivals in Germantown, the Russian one in DC, Takoma Park and maybe a market or two.

I'll give myself an attitude adjustment and a swift kick in the ass.  No more Grumble Bunnies.



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