My kids have broken me. I am broken. If I hear one more shard of the beginning of a scream today I am going to get in the car and drive to Kansas.
Lucky for Kansas, Matilda's in bed and Linnea is drooling in my armpit. Niclas isn't really a screamer. I'm not raising my voice above a whisper.
We might be good. I might still live here tomorrow. I hope tomorrow there's less screaming because today there was a lot of screaming and Kansas was looking good.

Comments (4)
We had that afternoon, too. Morning was great, but afternoon we were there with you. And perhaps I'll be there with you in the car to Kansas, too.
Posted by SqueezyB
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April 23, 2007 8:48 PM
Posted on April 23, 2007 20:48
Oh God, I could not take the screaming. (And now that I've written that my second is guaranteed to be a screamer.) No one will blame you. Just be careful of the tornadoes.
Posted by juliloquy
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April 23, 2007 10:37 PM
Posted on April 23, 2007 22:37
juliloquy, are you saying that your toddler no longer screams? because if so, i hate you a little. our toddler screams. over the screams of the infant. there is really, a lot of screaming in our house.
Posted by atomictonic
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April 24, 2007 5:57 AM
Posted on April 24, 2007 05:57
He has never been a screamer. You hate me, and I deserve it. If I may so generalize, I think screaming might be more of a girl thing. But, um . . . the girls will take care of you when you get older? So there's that, if you make it that long.
Posted by juliloquy
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April 24, 2007 10:31 AM
Posted on April 24, 2007 10:31