2/3 kids hate their mother.

What to write, what to write, what to write.

I just need to, so bear with me. Communication around here seems to be at an all-time low, so I need to talk to someone, and that’s myself, and I feel better when I’m talking to myself while writing, because then it makes me feel like I’m typing my thoughts instead of mumbling incoherently to myself.

Junior’s mad at me. Our house is a mess. It’s been a mess. I had a huge power bill and seriously needed to pick up extra work. As a result of the house being a mess, Stud and I cracked down. He knew it was coming; we warned him repeatedly. Of course, it’s Dude’s fault. It always is. Dude makes all the messes around here. He does, but Dude also does the dishes, and is getting better at doing them whenever we ask. So Dude leaves a soda can here or there. BFD. Junior can pick it up in less time than it takes Dude to put one spoon in the dishwasher. He missed his 3rd-month anniversary with GF. I’m evil.

Sunny’s giving me a hard time. She’s just crabby and PMSing, but it hurts when she’s like this. I can do nothing right. Nothing. She complains she’s feeling horrible, and I tried to rub her back. OMG, but that’s where the pain in her side comes, and I could trigger that, you know. So, lassaiz-fare, right? Then she claims I’m avoiding her. I can’t win. "You didn’t hug me today." "Where can I put my arms so I won’t touch anything that makes you hurt?" That hurt her feelings, too.

Dude loves me. I can’t figure this out. It’s like he’s yanging to offset their yinning, enough to compensate for the both of them. We stand nose to nose, and we fight about whose arms go on top when we hug...not in words, but by trying to hug each other. We just can’t figure out how the hug goes together anymore, which is kinda funny if you think about it. I’m still not used to that extra three inches of height he came downstairs with one morning. Apparently, neither is he, but he’s not complaining.

About my stalker, she e-mailed me last week to see if I wanted to chat. I couldn’t, but I haven’t heard from her since. I guess she got what information I had on the people with whom I used to hang out with and she’s going to more or less leave me alone. No problemo.

TMI, so don’t read further if not really interested:

Swallowing...I can do it without really doing it. One banana-flavored condom and Stud almost made noise. It was actually tasty!