I'm blogging at 8:34 on a Sunday morning. My eyes are swollen and I think I just ate half a banana bread but I can't be sure. My coordination is so off that I whacked my head on the bathroom door when I went to pee.
Kali, on the other hand, is showing off her dexterity on the keyboard of her Baby Ein.stei.n activity jumper. I am so thankful that thing doesn't play nursery rhymes. If I have to be up at this ungodly hour, I should at least get to hear something good, like the 1812 overture or "in the hall of the mountain king" by Grieg. Yeah, I'm a music snob. Deal with it.
She keeps bouncing up and down and grinning at me - I keep faking a smile at her. How long until I wake Mr. December and demand a shift change? Hmmm... maybe I can tell him that Kali and I left the bed 2 hours ago... if he's groggy enough it just might work.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Get pregnant. See heartbeat. Tell everyone. Miscarry. Get angry. Bitter. Bitter. Still bitter. Fertility testing. PCOS. Treatment. Pregnant. Hold breath... hold breath... hold breath... and exhale. Finally a mommy, minus my innocence. I am so lucky. It's not always fun, but it is entertaining... to my readers. Any resemblance to good advice, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Welcome to the dream factory.
2 comments:
Go for it, lie lie lie, but get ourself some sleep.
that should be yourself...sigh
Post a Comment