Well, I turned 40 yesterday. I wasn't as emotionally distraught as I thought I'd be, thank goodness. All my life, the elusive "40" loomed in the future and it was the magical number that would indicate I was officially old. Well, I'm not old! I'm 40 and I've got at least another 40 years left in me. Maybe it's the halfway mark. But my life certainly isn't over. That's a bold statement after the year I've had -- I thought life ended last year but, alas, I'm still kickin'.
I'm sitting on my bed, typing on my laptop while Bear learns how to properly open and close his bedroom door. He's being a handfull tonight so I sent him to his room where he SLAMMED his door. Well, that doesn't happen here and the punishment is opening and closing his door, over and over, until I decide when he can finish. He's mad and angry at me right now -- and beyond exhausted. Right now, he's just whiney and I told him I'm not going back downstairs to make dinner until he stops whining.
I'm not cut out for the single parent stuff. Some days, I feel so inadequate -- like it's a damn miracle that either one of us can get out of the house with clean clothes on. Sometimes I feel like Steve would have been so much better at being a single dad than I am at being a single mom.
Health-wise, I'm feeling better. The valley fever test came back negative, thank God. But it's apparently a really resistant strain of pneumonia that, quite frankly, has kicked my ass -- good -- for the six weeks.
My birthday party over the weekend was a lot of fun -- lots of food, lots of margaritas, lots of 80's music and most importantly -- a lot of good time spent with friends. This house was alive -- ALIVE -- and it was such a nice change from the rather benal existence that has become my life over the past year.
Uh oh.... Bear's crying to his teddy bears "Mommy doesn't like me..." This guilt stuff starts THIS early???? Sigh. Gotta go.
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