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I’m trying to be positive.  I’m trying to not expand on the little things.  They are just that, little.  Let’s keep them that way.  But there are so many of them.  SO many.  It’s as if they are tiny little men trying to form an army against me.  It’s like they are staring at each other waiting for the right time and the commander to give the nod and they’ll bull rush me.  

The past two weeks were rough.  The husband was away for work.  At least one (of 3) dogs got sick ALL over my basement.  Puke. Poop.  It was everywhere.  Two of three kids were midnight pukers.  Why can’t they get sick during the day when we are all awake and don’t mind cleaning things up?  Why didn’t I dismantle those stupid bunk beds because cleaning puke out of the top bunk is the absolute worst and even more so at midnight.  Oh and throw in a day or two of flu for me and the perfect shit storm has hit my house.  

This is the last week of my work widow status for a month or so.  I’m thankful for that.  I need a break.  I want a day in my house all by myself.  Not a soul around that needs something.  I want a chance to miss the chaos.  And a husband that wants me.  That would be nice, too.  He’s trying.  Or he was.  I’ve had to take a side seat for a few weeks until he gets back.  I hope he still tries when he comes back.  I try every day.  Even when he’s not here.