I feel really bad being moody when there are so many people around me with real problems. Like my family for example. My brother and his wife are moving out of my parent’s house and it’s been a little bit testy for everyone. They love each other and everybody is going to be better off in the long run but you know how these things go. It’s kind of like a break up. Break-ups always hurt even if they are the right thing to do.

I hope I’m okay typing about this. (Please IM me, family, if I’m not and I will quickly delete these first paragraphs.) I’m not caught in the middle, thankfully. They know better than to do that to me. It’s not like my brother and his family are at horrible odds with my parents (or vise versa). It’s just a change. A big change. A big change with lots of growing pains and hurt feelings and little kids that get confused when the adults act on their emotions. You know how these things are. It’s scary for everyone. But I guess it’s part of growing up, no matter how old you are.

For now, just pray for my family. They need some extra care.

I’m plugging away as usual. Life goes on, doesn’t it? I’ve been pulling off the super-mom identity pretty well lately. Today at the grocery store when the checker asked me if I needed help out to my car, I shrugged, hoisted Baby Bug on my hip and said, “No. I’m super mom.” She laughed. I guess she doesn’t hear that every day.

I tell myself I’m a super mom every day. It’s how I make the daily grind less grinding. “You are a SUPER HERO!” I chant as I carry the groceries up the stairs and then later when I tote the over-flowing garbage down the stairs and Baby Bug whines and complains at the gate waiting for me. Being a mom and a domestic-keep-it-all-together expert is not a pretty job but somebody’s gotta do it. I hope you don’t mind me saying this but I think I do a pretty blankety blank good job.

Somebody’s gotta make coffee and keep the floor clean and remember what day to move the car so we don’t get a parking ticket. It’s kinda like being an office manager except I don’t have to unjam the copy machine any more. I unjam other things like the sink drains and baby feet that can’t get through pant legs.