So I just finished this book. This is the 2nd book by Tami Hoag that I've read since I've been laid off. I'm doing a lot more reading since I supposedly have the time to do it, lol. Anyway, the book was good, but in the end I found myself a little upset. (There may be spoilers so if you want to read the book, stop reading this now.) At the end of the book, the main character is reflecting to herself about the last 10 days. How she stumbled on a murder and fell.in.love. Ugh! 10 days! And she and her lover are saying "I love you" to each other. *sigh* Can I just say in almost two years, my boyfriend has only said it twice, on accident, because I tricked him into it. He's got this "thing" about saying I love you. I know it stems from his ex-wife saying it to him, even when she was planning on leaving him and cheating. To him it's not "real" or it doesn't mean anything. He always tells me "I kinda like you" or he says that he cares about me. But it's not "I love you" And he wonders why I question our relationship sometimes. Boys!

Okay, so why does this look like it's gonna be funny? :
Seems like MS's daughter Alexis is gonna dish on her mom. But then it's on MS's network, so how good could it be? I'm gonna try to catch this at 9pm, just to see what goes on. I really don't like MS. Every once in a blue moon I see something of hers that I might want, but I usually resist the urge to buy it. Maybe because I am so domestically challenged, I take it out on MS. I can't match anything, clutter dominates my home and I have never been able to frost a cupcake correctly, lol. I have to blame somebody, right?

Okay so this is my kids room. It's a disaster area. I'm so frustrated with this. I can't understand why they can't keep their room picked up. All those clothes on the floor? Those are clean and BRAND NEW clothes they just dropped on the ground. And I promise they have blankets and pillows. They're buried underneath that mess. Anyway, I've decided to take a ummm, sterner approach to being the parent. Apparently my trying to be nice is not working. Between the sty they live in, the constant fighting and arguing and the meltdowns when something isn't going their way, I'm ready to scream. They'll be home in a minute and as soon as they walk in the door, one of them will have a complete meltdown about not getting snack, not wanting to do their homework, not getting to sit where they want to, or not getting to do what they want. I'm going to cut them off at the pass so to speak. I'm afraid they aren't going to like me very much, but that's a chance I'm willing to take. K- I hear the bus. Time to put on my "mean momma".