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Henry, checking his reflection before leaving for school: "I look fairly broad-minded."
Diagnosis: rotator cuff injury, poss. disarticulation of shoulder caused by CAT TRIPPING ME. X-rays forthcoming. Cat-kicking, considered.
Two hours until I find out what the fuck's going on with my fucking shoulder. Fuck, it hurts. (Also: fuck.)
My dog licking at a dry water bowl is the saddest thing ever. "No, it's okay. I like the IDEA of the water."
Henry, frustrated with his too-hot hot chocolate: "This is making me PETRATATED."
6 yr. checkup--for the 4th yr in a row, Henry's height (in inches) is identical to his weight (in pounds). This will stop eventually, right?
I canceled my doctor appt, and my shoulder pain returned with a vengeance. Now I'll reschedule and it will go away. MARK MY WORDS.
Transcribed Henry's latest tale, "Star Wars: the Clone Wars and the Battle of the Republic." If Lucas finds out, we are so screwed.
@Nopasanada seems to think that I talk to my pets too much and maybe I should get outside occasionally. Hmm.
Being a mommy blogger, I thought you might be interested in reading my misplaced modifiers.
The cat just rubbed her ass on my arm, and now I'll have to burn this sweater. And bury the ashes. And nothing will ever grow there.
One of the words in a worksheet for Henry about the election: "democrate." (Teacher's spelling.) DEMOCRATE.
Sad that I missed all the Twittering last night with my damned quality family time, but also HOLY SHIT THIS IS EXCITING.
Sushi plus wine plus impending Obama victory=a very good night.
Voted, then spent two hours at the election day bake sale. Those brownies and cupcakes were purchased out of CIVIC DUTY.
Calories in fun-sized Snickers: 72. Number of fun-sized Snickers I just ate: never mind.
At what point do I go to a doctor for my stupid shoulder pain? You know as soon as I make an appt. it will go away.
I just voted for Obama in #TwitVote -- http://twitvote.twitmarks.com/
I'm the only parent who didn't attend the Halloween Parade. My kid is in school for < 3 HRS; must I really see him walk down the block?
Today I yelled at Henry for wanting to tell me a joke. Tomorrow I dress up as #1 Asshole Mother of the Year. No costume necessary!
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