Boring....

I need to learn be just this. I am over excitment and drama. I would like to back to being Mrs borning married to Mr boring and living in a quant little borning house in a quant borning neighbourhood. Arrrhhh the seranity of that thought.

But that would mean that there would be no Mr T or no future baby K's. Oh perish the thought now... I love that dear sweet bundle of joy. The one who puts on an acdemy award performance every day when I drop him off and pick him up from day care. Who clings to my leg begging me to just pick him up. (who does not quiet understand that this can cause his mummy great pain doing so.)

Where would I be without my multiple trips the fertility Dr spending close to $1000 on treatment to find out that the meds have not had the desired effect to even give me a fighting chance of being pregnant. Or have one crazy weekend of no hot water on a majour extra long weekend.

And oh if I could simply not lose things. I mean how does a tumbnail drive jump out of one large hand bag or coat pocket (which one I am still yet to figure). Come on. I just wanted to get lunch becuase I A) left my beautiful salad at home and B) I was famished as I left morning tea at home too. Grrrr Not my week.