I think I have already done all kinds of haircuts and styles. Pixie, bob, short, medium, long, wavy, curly, side-swept bangs, curtain bangs, blunt bangs, corncrows, name it. But the most liberating of all is this:
No regrets.
I think I have already done all kinds of haircuts and styles. Pixie, bob, short, medium, long, wavy, curly, side-swept bangs, curtain bangs, blunt bangs, corncrows, name it. But the most liberating of all is this:
No regrets.
Every day I wake up feeling like those Instagram moms who seem to have figured out motherhood only to become borderline psychotic when faced with Rhett's homework.
Of all the evil that's happening in the world, Math is probably the worst. I have been stumped multiple times by elementary Math since Rhett started his online classes six weeks ago. Apparently, I am a moron when it comes to basic Math (read: I pull out a calculator to equations like 5+3).
Sometimes, I amaze myself with my adulting, considering that my hormones are still on overdrive. You see, I have written a complaint—after making countless of calls and follow-ups on not having an internet connection for almost two months—in the most diplomatic way. For someone whose life depends heavily on memes and cat videos, I would have gone batshit. (Who wouldn't?)
But there are far more upsetting things than that. Like how the baby can sleep through a thunderstorm but awakens the moment I tiptoe my way out of the room or the husband's utterly useless nipples.
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Packing semi-winter clothes for a first day of spring trip. |