The Winds of Winter
I'm bummed. My kids hate me. And, being that I have no idea what I'd like to do with the rest of my life, my only purpose at the moment is being a mom, and well, we can see how that's going. It also does wonderful and amazingly brilliant things for my ongoing depression. Nothing like your kids reminding you daily how they love taking you for granted to make you feel all warm and fuzzy about life. Dee told me the other day that I am the only one who bothers him. Really. And here I was, all these years, pretty sure I am the only one who treated him like his bowel movements were made of solid gold. Silly me. And Em? Well, I can't seem to do anything right by her these days. I know she's a teenager in all her teenage hormonal angst, and it's normal to hate one's mother at this stage in life, but still, it chafes like a guy's 2-day-old beard on your chin during a marathon kissing session when she gives me "that look", or gives me the silent ...