Check the source

This past week has been one where I was free of "work" meaning the gigs that bring in cash. I was able to be just a mom and wife. I would find myself stopping and wondering what ever drove me to think it was difficult, what acted as the petri dish to my negative nikki culture. It comes down to my house. I would look at it as a series of chores, of endless mental to-do lists, of goals I had that never or rarely completed. My whine was self imposed, self inflected, and my kiddo copied his mom.

Bugman has been whining like it was an Olympic event, something I am not proud to say. But I am Big Girl enough to admit and recognize that I am the source. My mom will happily tell anyone who asks that I was an accomplished whiner as a child, as a tween, as a teen, and as a twenty something. She tactfully stops at the thirty something mark since I am only weeks into it. Unfortunately, personality and not genetics gave Alex that ability as well. Wouldn't it all be easier blamed on genetics?

Today, started like past Sundays, with bugman declaring as we woke him early, "I hate Sundays". So I turned it into a tickle fest. Breakfast was eggs and donuts, a special treat, nap time (which we both needed, but didn't really get) was going to be rewarded with a candy bag treat, but the afternoon blahs settled in. You know, where I want to sit on the couch and veg to TV and crocheting, and Alex is bored just chasing his shadow in the yard. And because I am stirring things up a bit and the air holds just a touch of summer, I suggested we turn the hose on and let it pour down his slide for an instant water park. Several puddles and smiles later he is happily playing a game while I stay away from the veg tube and start dinner, and tell you all about it of course!