Technically, I have had time to blog. Somewhere in my schedule. At some point. I'm sure of it.
Truthfully, I am just a moody shmoody joe who would rather cry hormonal tears into Mr. Snoodle--my trusty pregnancy body pillow--than write it out. Writing may be therapy, but there comes a point when the whining just isn't funny anymore, and that's when the therapist tells you to suck it up and quit your bellyaching.
I'll be back. Promise. I may have to hype myself up on chocolate covered strawberries to get here, but at some point I have to not be moody anymore. Right? Good heavens, I have to level out eventually (preferably before baby comes and I'm attacked by PPD).
PS: In spite of all the moodiness, we are doing well. And I had the carpets cleaned today, so that's always happy times.