Tired

This picture of Ellie looks like I feel. TIRED. Not just a little yawn, but the what-do-I-do-next kind of tired. Dog-tired. Weary. Why you ask? Well...

The long days at the office, without a doubt contribute. It's not just the length of the day, because some days are magic. Everything seems to be going your way. You know the kind of day I'm talking about... the stars are aligned and working in the zone is easy. But lately, a day at the office is more akin to sprinting on a treadmill. (Not that I've done that anytime recently, but that sounds tiring.)

It could be the three very active little people who call me mom. Repeatedly, call me mom.... I think the boys are having a private contest to see how many times they can say "mom" in a 12 hour period. Let's not go there.

It could be the husband. I love him. Really. I adore you, Monte, but GEEEEEEZZZZ why do some things require so much explanation. It's got to be a Mars vs. Venus thing.

Maybe it's because the list of things that need to be done exceeds my will to start even one of those things. Say it with me everyone, LAUNDRY. UGH... children are little. Why do their clothes make up such a significant portion of the laundry pile?

So thank you, Miss Ellie. While I am weary, you are just trying to lick your tray, because that's what babies do.

Enough said.