I'm not having a good PMA day. Feeling so very tired and irritable. I feel a lot of resentment rising up - it must be nice to waltz off to the beach for almost a week of relaxation and fun with your ho bag while I stay here and deal with potty training and dead pets and late nights and cooking and cleaning and laundry and swim lessons and everything else in life.
Maybe I sound like a big fat whiny baby. And maybe I'm being one. Oh well.
I think the blast to my PMA came this afternoon when H called. I wonder if it would have been easier not talking to him at all during this trip. Was very chatty again, asking me a lot of questions. Wanted to know how the birthday party was, how the boys have been. Told me he bought little gifts for the boys. He said his skin has been better, that the sun and saltwater seemed to have helped. That he has been sleeping pretty good (for him). That he is having a good time.
Well. La -ti - freakin- da.
Part of me doesn't want to even see him when he comes home tomorrow.
Maybe I'm just jealous because I wish I was the one at the beach with my H.
As I'm writing this, the boys came downstairs after waking up from their naps to give me hugs. Okay, so maybe I'm the lucky one after all
Spending the evening with SIL and the kids, as they leave tomorrow morning. Done with my ranting and complaining - at least for now
Bomb January 2012 - doesn't feel the same about me
~ "There is nothing love cannot face; there is no limit to its faith, hope, and endurance."
