Just super

It’s Super Bowl Sunday. Drew is in front of the TV, doing his silent screaming so that he doesn’t wake the baby. Sammy is upstairs, sleeping after a long day of playing, eating, exploring, falling on his face and getting a bloody nose. Oy.

I feel like I don’t have much to blog about today. This weekend I tried to recover from the previous week of illness. Sam had puking, conjunctivitis and a double ear infection. Drew had a stomach bug. I had a bad cold. I hate being sick, especially when I still have to take care of everyone else in the family. Not cool. We all recovered by the end of the week and this weekend it was nice not to do anything – except for laundry, cooking, groceries, etc.

I know it’s probably just the winter blues, but I’ve been feeling so… just down. The snow is making me feel claustrophobic and I hate the mud and slush everywhere. I want to wear flip-flops and shorts, damn it! I want to go shopping. And I want to get a manicure and a pedicure and then have brunch somewhere nice. And then get a massage or get my hair done.

Not really happening anytime soon.

Oh, and then we have a leaky roof. We have leaks in five spots in the house and it’s making me question the wisdom behind homeownership. We spent hundreds of dollars this winter getting our driveway plowed and the snow and ice removed from our roof. And winter is not over yet. I am just sick of dealing with this crap. I don’t have the time and I hate, just hate, spending the money on stuff like this. So renting sounds great right about now. We had been thinking about moving to Portland so that Drew can be closer to his office, so maybe we’ll put the house up for sale in the spring. I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t want to deal with that hassle either – the cleaning, the open houses, etc. Ugh. Can someone just come and decide for me? And then make it happen. M’kay?

I think I am off to bed now with my parents’ AARP magazine. Robert Redford is on the cover. I can’t believe that he is turning 75. Ahhh… But I have to say, if he came knocking, 75 or not, I’d still swoon. They just don’t make them like this anymore.

Sweet dreams!

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