Yes, it is. Except I don't have that much to complain about :)
Just so tired.
Head is just a low grade every-now-and-then ache.
Tummy is upset but that's from side effects from the anti-nausea pills.
And will wonders never cease, I haven't needed an oxycodone yet. Shock of my life!!
I guess I'll have to tell you about the concept of the "complaint department" and how it came about. I was reading a book by Linda Greenlaw about growing up on an island off the coast of Maine. Her family fished and caught lobster for a living. Anyway, her mom was a very pragmatic soul and had a daily "complaint dept" set up for an hour every day or so. She'd listen, fix boo boos and generally shower the kids with attention for an allotted amount of time. I jumped on this idea.
So my Steffie (and now Jackie) lead the world in the drama queen department. Every day, I get (or used to get) Stef from school at 3 p.m. and we'd open the complaint department until 4 p.m. One hour a day and that was it. If you were gushing blood, cut your arm off, or if something caught on fire, the complaint department would open outside of this time frame. However, it wouldn't open for mundane bickering and whining.
So this really worked for us. It was set time to hear about her day, what was bugging her, just simply getting in close touch with her every day. Now the funny part is that Bill picks Stef up from school quite a bit now and he seems to feel the complaint department needs to open up when Steffie arrives on the doorstep, not simply the car.
I guess he's telling me he doesn't want to assume responsibility for the complaint department, huh?