It's not you, it's me. No, really.

I cannot get my shite together.  I have become one of the worst bloggers I know.  I'm barely squeaking out a post a week.  And that's all fine for those bloggers who have hundreds of followers and are all sorts of popular.  But for little ol' me?  Not too cool.

Eh.  What can I say?  We've had all sorts of stuff going on around here.  There was the flood, for example.  And can I just say that our flood insurance company, homeowners insurance company and FEMA can all kiss my ass as not a single ONE of those agencies decided we were worthy of assistance. So a big fat middle finger to them.  All of that means that we are still without a downstairs as we can't afford to replace the carpet yet.  The upside of this is realizing we can live in a smaller space without killing each other.  So we got that going for us.

On the positive front, the Mr. got a promotion at work.  He is the big executive cheffy head honcho.  (I think they should put that on his business cards.)  Which is totally awesome and he completely deserves it.  We are *angels singing* all getting health insurance through the company now!!  As he had none previously and the kids and I were on a private program that cost about $550 a month, this was excellent news.  And he got a raise as well.  So Woo-to-the-Hoo!  Only downside is they don't really have any seasonal help yet, so he is working pretty much every day.  This means we are having to rethink our entire kid coverage schedule and that is making me a bit nuts.  Plus, being the only parent at home at night after a long day makes me more then a bit nuts. 

It also requires that I figure out what to feed them at night, and hello? if I'd wanted to be saddled with that responsibility, I wouldn't have married a chef!  (Not really, I'm just not an instinctual cook, so everything takes me longer and I make a huge mess.)

Pixie has gone from being the wonderful go-to-bed girl that I have bragged about to the pop-out-of-bed-every-three-minutes-for-some-inane-reason girl. 

And don't even get me started about how busy my work is right now. Ugh.

At the end of all that, when the kids finally get to bed and I've cleaned the kitchen and made lunches (which I actually have yet to do, dammit), and can finally get around to blogging?  All my brain wants to do is have a glass of wine and read a trashy romance novel.  It does not want to get up and be witty.  Or interesting.  Look at this post, it's basically me whining the entire time.  Wow. Sorry about that.

In conclusion, don't hate me because I'm a bad blogger.  Or because I'm beautiful.
(Ha!  See what I did there?  Witty!)