I'm not sure how well this is going to work today.  I've been trying to de-grouch myself for a good portion of the day with no success.  I debated not even attempting a post today because I would prefer not to have this turn into a whiny journal that no one cares to read.  But I think I can avoid sinking to those levels.
    The grouchiness stems from the surprise answer I got when I asked my husband if he was going to get up to go to church with us girls today:  "I have to go to work."  What?!?  I mean, don't get me wrong.  I'm well aware that E is a workaholic.  I was just caught fully unprepared to have the workweek start today.  See, the problem is: I like my husband.  A lot.  I am interested in the things he has to say and I enjoy his company.  It wasn't even my common complaint of having expected to have some backup when it came to childcare.  I was looking forward to being able to smooch him as I walked through the kitchen or to rolling my eyes at something outlandish he said.  So, I admit it.  As unfashionable as it may be, I love my husband.  That's why he drives me so crazy.  If I wasn't in love, I wouldn't be bothered by things like this.  So, Baby, if you're reading this:  come on home and throw your dirty socks in the middle of the floor or something.  I'm game.