I'm so confused. The birds are chirping. Junior's wearing a short-sleeved shirt. People are walking the streets in shorts. I have a bizarre craving to do some spring cleaning. I'm not complaining, I swear, but if weren't for the red, yellows, and oranges outside the window you'd think spring was just around the corner. Instead, this is:
Snow and ice! Naked trees! St. Bernards rescuing skiers. (That's not my dog but I wish it were. As soon as Junior can say the word "dog" we are getting one.) For now, I'll have to settle for pumpkins. I can't wait to let Junior play in all the pumpkin goo. In his bathing suit.
About me: I'm 42 and added another gherkin to our pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our 9-year-old Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.