"September of '75, I was 47 inches high. My mom said by Christmas I would have, a bad a** GI Joe, for your little minds to blow! I still got beat up after class." Go get'em Ben! It's 3am. I gave up on sleep after laying there a couple of hours. I'm too keyed up, and all of the pregnancy hormones are just agitating me more. No chill pills during pregnancy. Normally, I could channel that energy into doing more work, but it doesn't seem like a good idea... and to what effect? I was up until 11pm working on a last minute report, and I really need to rest. Some days I feel like Toto in the Wizard of Oz; I can see behind the curtain but can't really explain it to anyone. I just have to wait for others to catch on. I realize they probably won't. The more I bark or growl; the more I'll get scolded.
This isn't good for Boop who is agitated, too. But, she kicks a lot, no matter how I'm feeling. They've done studies to look at mother-child interactions, and they have shown that a child can see through a mother trying to pretend something is okay when it really isn't. It's visceral. Hm, so how do I protect Boop from myself? I want pancakes. It's only 3:30am, and I came downstairs and started the fireplace for the chill. I have the attention span of a gnat, but unfortunately I'm not able to distract myself from some issues.
No comments:
Post a Comment