I hate February

I. Fucking. Hate. February.

It's a depressing, nasty, dirty, dreary month. I hate it.

I am on the verge of losing my mind. It has been over 30-days since we've been able to go outside and play for any decent length of time. The children are sick of me, sick of each other, sick of their toys, movies and games. Quite frankly, I'm not all that fond of any of the aforementioned items either. Children included.

My darling little heathens are dangling on a precarious ledge. There are moments when I think they're going to quit fighting each other, declare mutiny and begin a preschool version of Lord of the Flies. They'll become cannibals, first using me as their snack and then go after one another. The little one will ultimately be victorious. Of the two she's got more staying power.

I feel quite certain that the only thing that can save me from the doldrums is some sunny, 60 degree weather. Yeah, I know, it's not going to happen.

I hate February.