p.m. is sick....snotty runny nose...last night she had a fever...I am so lucky my girls hardly ever get sick....so lucky, it seems like everyone else I know with kids is not this lucky, kids sick helluva lot more than mine. *knocks on wood* At least the fever is not as high as last night.
Yesterday I started to peel more fucking wallpaper..what possessed us to buy a house that was 98% wallpapered I do not know...grrrrr...I hate wallpaper. I was going to paint upstairs yesterday morning...got up early to do it before kiddies woke...no such luck...p.m. was up right behind me...explaining why I peeled more paper instead....tried painting last night, but all she wanted was mama...so full tray o' paint got hastily rolled on...maybe today...good thing it was only primer.
Today I am going to maybe paint, or peel more paper...I was planning on taking it easy after this hellacious weekend of painting/staining/mudding/depapering....I am burnt, but this shit needs doing and it might as well be me...either that or I will read a book.

You're The Things They Carried!

by Tim O'Brien

Harsh and bitter, you tell it like it is. This usually comes in short,
dramatic spurts of spilling your guts in various ways. You carry a heavy load, and this
has weighed you down with all the horrors that humanity has to offer. Having seen and
done a great deal that you aren't proud of, you have no choice but to walk forward,
trudging slowly through ongoing mud. In the next life, you will come back as a water
buffalo.


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