Sara informed me this morning that "ninjas steal pie."

Because they're NINJAS! They steal whatever they want to! You can't stop them, because they'll just kill you. They'll totally flip out and kill you just for your pie. They might even kill you if you have the wrong kind of pie, like if you have a coconut cream pie but they wanted to steal a chess pie -- they'll kill you for it. They'll still take the coconut cream pie even though it isn't the one they want, but they'll kill you just to teach you a lesson.

Ninjas are like that.

rassenfrassen Ninjas!

Chiming in to say that I don't get eye-rolly over Nora's complaints. I just feel bad that she's having a hard time and wish I could help ... same for any other Buffista who's having a bad day/week/month.

This is me.

I have (what I think of as) a complaint, though. This is Day 3 of not having a voice, and I'm running a fever, and I still have to be in the office. I stayed home all day yesterday & didn't speak at all, and I still have no voice. This is of the suck.

On the other hand, this too shall pass. so.

Sara told me they don't steal cake, though she might have just said that because I gave her the big pleading eyes.

I think Sara wants to be a ninja, actually. She keeps threatening to kick people's butts, and the other day she said to Ben, "I'm going to attack you now." And then she did, complete with growling.

Which, well, not very ninja-like in a stealthy way, but I'm sure she'll learn.

Hugs and hairpats all around from me. I'm sort of grayish at the moment, and I gave up on ever catching up in this thread or Natter.

I support Nora's non-complainy mode.

See, I support the complainy mode. That doesn't mean I support non-stop, woe-is-me, no-one-knows-my-pain complaining. I don't support complaining wherein people offer good, helpful advice but the complainer just shrugs it off with an Eeyore-ish "Well, I bet it won't work for *me*" attitude.

However, when you're getting bombarded by constant stress, you can't keep it all bottled up inside. That leads to rage blackouts, heart attacks, and tumors. When stressful shit happens, and you need to talk about it, then by all means, talk about it. I don't consider that to be "complaining," at least not in a whiny, refuses-to-take-good-advice way.

Sometimes, I wonder if we should just have Joe be a SAHD. Maybe one day.

This would be my fondest wish of wishes. Hang out all day with Da Punk? Awesome.

Plus, no stupid customer service phone calls.

I need to find a viable Business From My Home scheme.

I need to find a viable Business From My Home scheme.

Pimp?

I think Sara wants to be a ninja, actually. She keeps threatening to kick people's butts, and the other day she said to Ben, "I'm going to attack you now." And then she did, complete with growling.

I can't wait for Emeline to become a ninja. Though, I suppose it could be problematic...

Me: "Emeline, good girl on the potty. Now let's put on your Pull-ups..."

Em: "Hai!" (throws down a pellet which bursts into a pillar of smoke)

Me: *cough cough*

When the smoke clears, no Em. From the shadows of the night a distant squeal: "Naked butt!"

I need to find a viable Business From My Home scheme.

Pimp?

Okay. Get out your sluttiest clothes. And go find me a big purple fedora with a four foot peacock feather stuck in the band.

People have to vent sometimes, or they'll burst. In this respect, I support complaint-mode like a bra.

Where I (me me me) am concerned, I do better if I don't complain too much. We have control over our thoughts. I maybe can't control which thoughts occur to me, but I am the boss of whether I dwell on them or not. There's a line somewhere between thinking through/talking out problems, and wallowing in them, and that's the balance I'm always seeking, with mixed success. Like lisah, I have to recommit.