I’m hoping this “brain so frozen and mushy I can’t think of topics” phase will end. Writer’s Block is perhaps the lamest thing I’ve ever experience. I mean, my life has plenty of blog fodder and I certainly have no shortage of things to write about, considering the fact that I am never, EVER bored. I’d pay for boredom! But, yep.
Still got nothin‘.
The truth is there is nothing I WANT to write about. I’m tired of whining about the mud in my back yard (it rained! It hasn’t rained in about a month! We have mud! I’m happy to have mud! Mostly). I’m tired of whining about dogs (I’m allergic to dogs. Yes, I’m a dog sitter. No, I’m not planning on getting rid of them any time soon). I’m tired of writing about the poo in my life. Except right now…dare I say it? There isn’t much poo to speak of. The beauty of potty training is it all gets flushed and there is rarely any to deal with. You know, unless he’s, say, holding it in at school and goes swimming? And what do many, many, MANY special kids do the second the step their toes in the water?
He hasn’t done much of that at home, thankfully. We did have an accident last week at the swim club where we made it all the way to the bathroom and he was screaming at me and he went NEXT TO the toilet and that was sure fun to clean up!
Except I don’t want to write about that.
Oops. Kinda just did.
Anywho, there really isn’t anything NEW! and EXCITING! going on in my life. It’s so mundane and same-ole-same-ole I’m not sure anything really merits an exclamation point. Heck, I’m not sure anything requires BOLD or italics, even. And if y’all have been reading a while, you know I’m not only the Domestic Goddess, but the Queen of Overused Punctuation and Font Style. Nary a
strikethrough. Whiskey, tango, foxtrot. See? I normally bold that. Just can’t bring myself to do it. Meh.
Of course, if there is nothing I want to write about, that could mean that my life is…shall I say…ordinary? Like, status quo? We’re just plugging along doing our thing.
We’re getting some sleep, the Bugaboo has been a happy Bugaboo, the Bug Boy is turning into a teenager (more on that amazing phenomenon later) and that’s about it.Oh, and I’m going through the change of life. No, for real. As in, confirmed and tested by a Lady Parts Doc and everyone’s all OMFSM THAT IS SO EARLY and I’m all NO EFFING SHIZ AND I’M NOT SO HAPPY ABOUT IT. I’d be upset about it but I cannot currently put two coherent thoughts together and the hot flashes have me so miserable I’ve been turning the air on to subarctic temperatures and while the rest of my family shivers with their teeth shattering I’m throwing the covers off at 2am drenched in the evil night sweats.
Yep. Totally nothing to see here. Move along, move along. These aren’t the droids you are looking for...