I was promised water with my ducks Take. Off. This. Hat. I've been referred to as dead inside. As having a heart of stone. You know the phrase Speaking Truth, in Love ? Apparently I have mastered the first half with a little to be desired on the second. And those are just comments from my husband. Though I haven't loved these descriptors (I prefer the term “realist”), they were, in essence, true. Historically, I was never very emotional or known to shed many tears. Notice the past tense? Me too. Sometime during my post-partum stay at the hospital, there was a change. Maybe it can be chalked up to the 24 hours without food or water, but a sniveling version of myself nestled in and refused to leave. Like a free boost at Jamba Juice, the cry baby emotion was included with my stay. Situations which previously left me unaffected now make me cry. I misted up watching a marriage proposal of a couple I never met. Well
Showing posts from May, 2011
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A smile when laid down to sleep isn't a good sign. A yawn when you are trying to leave is even worse. I'm sorry. Friends with children, friends without. No matter. You are due. Let's consider this my official Apology Tour. To friends with children : If you had children before me, there is a 100% chance I judged you. How hard was it to shower each day? Could you really be that tired? Weren't you home sleeping all day? And what is the deal with your inability to be anywhere on time (or to get there at all)? We swore our family would be different. We are not. Luckily, finding time to shower was not too hard for me (by sacrificing sleep, a 5am shower would suffice). The problem was more in how pointless it was to shower. I enjoyed being clean no longer than 10 minutes each day before being drenched in spit up. At a certain point I even gave up changing clothes. The extra laundry wasn't worth it. Now onto sleep. Sleep - Oh how I miss you.