February 18: Welcome Aboard!



One tired little terrorist



Welcome to all who made the leap from my old blog ("Feasts & Famines") to "Saint Marty."  I promise to provide the same quality posts, plus a few new twists.  One of the new twists is that I plan to "check in" every day, even if it's for just a short, little bitch session.  And I want to welcome my first follower, Nicole.  You rock.  Now just spread the word to your friends.

I don't have anything profound or insightful to say tonight.  I'm just checking in, remember.  The wind is howling, and my son is getting crabby.  It's almost time for him to go to bed.  When his screams cause my ears to bleed, I know he's tired.  I am recovering from my terminal bad mood of the last few days.  This morning nearly drove me over the edge.  You see, when I went to leave for work at 4:45 a.m., my car keys were M.I.A.  I think my son went into my pocket last night and decided to play with my head.  (He's only two-years-old, but I think he's a terrorist in training sometimes.)

I do need to get my son home, so I'm going to call it a night.  Some days, saints work miracles.  Some days, saints change shitty diapers and warm up bottles.  Saint Marty has a diaper to change.

I hope everyone has a miraculous night.  More tomorrow on the changes that are on the way.