look out, webster’s

I made up a new word last week.


It’s more than flustered. More than distracted. More than overwhelmed. It’s hoozybobbered.

It’s my current state of being.

Can we talk about five year olds for a second? No, never mind. Scratch that. I don’t want to go into all of the WHINING and the CALLING and the MAHMEEEEEEEE and the constant disregard for her father’s feelings. And the talking. OHMYEVERLOVINGGOD, the talking.

{When the incessant chattering gets to be too much, I take a moment to be thankful that I have a child healthy enough to talk, and then I go back to plugging my ears.}

So, right. Not going to talk about five year olds.

I haven’t been here much but my schedule at work is settling down. My goal is to try to write more regularly. I know. I know. But I’m going to try.

And hopefully the hoozybobberedness will subside. Or at least make room for the rest of life.

Here’s to a sunny, word-filled summer.


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