Right.

The Toddler is asleep, finally, having lost the daily battle of Night-Night. I've eaten massive amounts of dark chocolate. I'm about to settle in for a nice, relaxing, evening with knitting and lots of reading.

This has been a truly odd couple of days. I've been emotionally all across the field. Large parts of me have wanted to scream and rant and rave, and other equally large parts have wanted to crawl into a closet and hide from the world. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me this week. Maybe I'm pregnant. Who knows. I certainly won't for another couple of weeks.

And next week brings with it another underway period. A whole week of solo-wrangling. Then the Boy comes home. We'll have an anniversary- three years we'll have been married. Three whole years. That's pretty impressive for someone who never sustained a relationship longer than 3 months before I met him.