The House of Screechers.

My children are taking turns screaming at the top of their lungs.

ONE has been very unlikable. That is putting it mildly. He is three and adjusting to his new life. I keep having to say that out loud, lest I completely LOSE it and lock him in the backyard until his daddy comes home.

Things seem to be very slightly improving each day … or maybe I am just getting used to the cacophony of screeching that takes place from 7 a.m. – 7 p.m. or later. I hope it really is getting better, because no one likes to visit The Family Of Screechers.

But then, moments like this happen, and I have a glimmer of hope that I will have a normal life again one day, we will all like each other most of the time, and the screeching will cease.

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