Don't send me for counselling. I don't actually hate me right now - I hate me a year and a half ago. I went back through the blog to see if any of this fresh hell is familiar (I can't count on myself to remember any of it accurately) and after much searching through the archives, found some hints of the sleep-less despair that is my life right now. But in every damned post, after a bit of whining comes all this glib, sunshiney, happy-clappy crap. How blessed we are, how great she is, how fan-fucking-tabulous life is.
blah blah blah. all true. don't care.
Can't write more because daughter slammed fingers in bathroom door (she was playing with bathroom door while I was ....indisposed; that said, if it keeps her busy, I probably wouldn't stop her anyways). She screamed. Cried. Of course she did. It woke up Nate. Of course it did. Instead of a 2 hour morning nap, he had 30 minutes. He will not go back to sleep and I have left him to wail in his crib so that I can type out how hard my life is. I am that mother.
I wonder if we'll get dressed.
1 comment:
Always remember that getting dressed is over-rated. As I've told you a million times, all you really ever need is the string of pearls...
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