Luck of the Irish

I haven't posted in a long while, primarily because I don't like to share bad news. I generally let it fester inside until some other good news comes along to offset it, to pop the blister, so to speak, and let all the evil ooze out. But I'm trying to be proactive and prevent the return of the twitch, so sit back and get comfy while I use blogging as surrogate (and free) therapy.

Several weeks ago my husband joined the growing ranks of the unemployed. With the economy in a tailspin, it's harder for anyone to find a new position, and it's certainly taking longer. We're getting unemployment payments, I've been putting in some extra hours at my part-time gig, and we've got cash reserves to cover many months of expenses (we're big Suze Orman aficionados). So I'm trying not to be stressed.

MissM has been trying to adjust to having Dad ferrying her to and from preschool. She & I have both been trying to adjust to him being around the house more, which is kinda nice in lots of ways, but still something we're having to get used to.

During Spring Break, I suggested a family outing to go watch the St. Patrick's Day parade- a free, fun outing. It would've been a great day, had I not come down with some kind of stomach flu. Instead of hanging out in Westport and watching folks drink green beer, we went home before the parade was officially over and I hung out in the master bath throwing up.

So, unemployment and puking on St. Patrick's Day. Our house surely has been cursed with the luck 'o the Irish...

It's hard to tell from this photo, but MissM did enjoy the parade.