Mother of the year.

I was joking around with some co-workers about our children, and apparently have been labeled Mother of the Year. Of Satan. Fabulous. Fortunately they were joking. Still, I hope this means I haven't yet lost my edge. Considering that my boss once referred to me as the Dowager of Evil, I doubt it.

Speaking of evil, I'm going to spend my next free hour watching True Blood while I wait for my son to fall asleep. I've read all the Sookie Stackhouse books, but even after seeing the first season of the show on Netflix, I haven't yet decided if I even like the series. It's silly to complain that the series doesn't follow the books - of course it wouldn't - but the characters just aren't as intense. Also, Sookie's character is a lot dumber and more gullible than the one in the book, which I find unfortunate.

Whatever it is, it appears to be a combination of far preferring book versions of most stories to the movie/series, kind of bad acting and (in certain circumstances), poorly developed plot line.

Oh, well. I'm home alone once again with the kid - or kids, if you count the one punching my cervix. I'm bummed, but things are better between us than they were yesterday (silly argument, upset stomach). I'm beginning to resent my husband's work. They tried to call him in at 10 p.m. on Sunday, he worked until almost 10:30 Monday and only told him today at 6:30 - as we were preparing dinner - that he needed to come in yet again. Grrr.