look out, webster’s

I made up a new word last week.

Hoozybobbered.

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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