I've fallen back into my caffeine addiction. I did so well for months, and then a few weeks ago I went nuts and had a whole pot of iced coffee. I blame it on the weather. It was cool and crisp and I felt obligated to have a drink containing something with the flavor of pumpkin in it. Even though it left me feeling horrible and jittery I decided to do it again the next day, because that's the kind of person I am. If I'm going to do something unhealthy I'm going to do it big. What's the point of moderation? I mean you might as well not be doing it at all. I tried to make myself feel better by drinking a huge glass of water after each cup of iced coffee, but I was spending inordinate amounts of time in the bathroom so I cut some of the water out. Yesterday I only had two iced coffees and today I am hoping to cut it down to one and just be done with it.
After complaining about homeschooling yesterday I feel obliged to say that we are having good day so far. I'm always torn about whether or not I should even express any negative feelings I am having about homeschooling, or anything at all for that matter. Sometimes I think if you go through life pretending everything is perfect you actual start believing it, so I may try that for a while. And honestly, my life is pretty cushy. I mean here I am sitting in front of a computer being completely self-absorbed. Does it get any better?
Greg took Jane bathing suit shopping last night. I'm happy that my husband releases me from this horrendous experience. I hate shopping. I especially hate shopping with 14 year old girls. I bond with Jane over many things, but shopping is not one of them. Shopping brings out the worst in me, so not only do we not bond, but I am pretty sure that I have damaged her beyond repair during some of our shopping experiences. Anyway, they were gone for two hours, but couldn't find anything. This would have sent me into a rage, but Greg just came home and said something about going out again some other time. He wasn't the least bit annoyed about wasting two hours of his life. Are you waiting for me to tell you my guy is the best? I'm not going. I hate when people say their hubby is the best. I always want to say, "You mean the best for YOU, make sure you say he's the best for YOU, not for every other woman." I actually stopped reading Pioneer Woman because she was always writing in a way that made me think she almost wants everyone to covet her husband and his butt, which really is not that hot. Sometimes all the ways you adore your husband should just be kept to yourself, especially if it includes the way you think he has such a great butt. I'm sorry, but I speak the truth. Women should not want other women lusting after their hubby. It's gross.
Wow. That second cup of iced coffee I wasn't going to have, but just finished, is really working it's charms on me! I bet you all just love my previous rant. Whatever - I'm not taking it out. I'm sick of worrying that someone may be offended by something I say, or that someone may think I'm insane for making such observations.
There must be a bad accident somewhere because I've been hearing sirens for awhile. Every time Maggie hears sirens she says, "Oh no, someone hit a bag of puppies!" I have no idea where this is coming from. We reassure her that's not what just happened, but she keeps saying it.
My girls are done with their assignments so I need to go finish up the rest of our work. I want to be done early today because this is the best weather day ever and who wants to be wasting it inside? And tonight is going to be even better. I love a nice cool evening - there's something so romantic about it. Maybe me and my fab and luscious hubby will take a midnight stroll!! And I'll tell you all about how wonderfully romantic it was in my next post.