The boys' school was closed due to teacher training.
A tough day it was.
Sons #2 and #3 were energetic, to kill it with kindness.
And yet it continues.
I'm fed up with my own voice now, and I'm all out of wine to compensate for this travesty.
As I write, Son#3 is climbing over the husband while Son#2's loud, booming voice mixes with the thwock-sound of the ball he is continuously kicking.
I chucked fertilizer on the lawn, then new grass seeds.
Then a sprinkler to water it all.
It might just grow.
You never know.
I'm sorting through laundry and washing what we're keeping (9 bin liners filled with 15 years' worth of yellowed laundry left the house yesterday).
Why do we hold onto things?
I desperately want to think only of my current needs, forget about always planning for some unknown might-never-happen future.
What's the point anyway?
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