I feel just a teensy bit guilty. It's okay--it's okay. But I do.
I read this, and it's very true and well-said. But sometimes it's hard to read about things when you need it most. Because it's hard to want to change.
Specifically? Lately, I do tend to live for the naptime moments, the late night hours, the sliver of time that's my own in the mornings...I'm so tired, so tired that even saying "I'm so tired" makes me cry. I'm SO PREGNANT!
And watching someone else's baby for 9 hours a day and caring for my own son as well is definitely something I'm happy to do, but it's taxing in its own ways. I wouldn't expect it to have zero effect on me. Still, at the same time, I've not been good at enjoying very much of the day. Not this week.
So I probably needed to read that reminder from Mommy J (whose blog I don't yet follow--just happened upon it and took the liberty of linking for the sake of giving proper credit--is that taboo in the blogworld?).
I feel like Eliza Doolittle: I'm a good girl, I am.
I TRY. (Oh, there we go, that made me cry, too). I'm so glad to find moments of joy, and I do find them. It's just that lately those moments are especially short, and I have to try especially hard to find them.
You know, maybe? Maybe: this is just a pity moment, a pregnant moment, an emotional moment, and I'm even more okay than I thought, and I should just avoid blogging while I'm so...
yep, more tears:
But I wanted to write, because I want to be better. I want to try harder. I want to be affected by the wonderful things I read, especially when it seems that I really needed to read them. I want to learn, I want to grow.
It is simply exhausting, which on this pregnant body is expressed with a nuclear hormone explosion.