A "non entry" doesn't deserve a title

Here I am trying to dig deep within my psyche, (a scary feat at any given point) so that I can work up a witty and captivating entry (snigger if you must) when I suddenly realize that I have Blogger's Block.

I could write about listening to my husband in the shower singing along in falsetto to Heart's Crazy On You but I'm just not feeling it. I'm not feeling it either when the song changes on the radio and he begins to sing along with the Bee Gees' More Than A Woman ("More than a woman to meeeeee!") but I do smile to myself.

I might ask if any of your kid's are walking around using the word "definitely" as much as Emily is these days. ("Did you have a great day at school, Emily?" "Definitely!" "Do you want another piece of pizza?" "Definitely!" "Emily, is 'definitely' the new popular word in school?" "Definitely!") That's a definite possibility.

Perhaps I should regale you with observations of my first days back in school? Do I start with feeling wholly inadequate while surrounded by a mass of young perfect bodies, ones that have yet to endure stretch marks from two pregnancies or see those first grey hairs that send your self image into a tailspin as you think My God, I'm five years away from forty. It might take weeks to return my self esteem to normal (ok, days--I'm not that depressed about it). My classes this (final!) semester are child psychology, ethics, and political science with an online marketing class thrown in to make it interesting.

Recapping Abigail's recent temper tantrum would surely entertain but I think she might disagree. I am learning (somewhat slowly, I admit) that trying to rationalize with a pissed off six and a half year old is pretty pointless. I'm pretty impressed with myself though because my patience is not wearing thin any sooner (that year on Lexapro is really paying off). Abigail will look back on that and surely appreciate it.

If I wrote that I was worried that every little twinge or "dullness" in my knees was a precursor to completly wasting the surgery I had I might sound whiney so I'll leave that alone. I'm forever reminding myself that I'm still healing and to not overdo it. Paitience, Iago. Patience.

I should tell you that my little detective managed to solve The Case of the Missing Tweezers. Emily's fee for cracking the case? One dollar. The guilty party? I've been advised by someone's lawyer not to reveal that information but I can say that it was in a certain someone's medicine cabinet. Next to his cologne.

Well, I've tried everything I can think of but I just can't seem to get past this Blogger's Block. I guess I'll get back to you when I definitely have something to talk about.