two minutes in the penalty box
everything is bugging the crap out of me. everything!
i guess i’m at the bitchy pregnant stage that you see so overly exaggerated in movies and on TV. there is something that bothers me about everything. i can find fault where there is none.
boo of course, is exempt. yes, she bothers me, but if you spent the majority of your time with a two year old, things should bother you, but there isn’t anything specifically wrong with her.
i am sleep-deprived already.
i am scared.
and i am alone.
but i did hold a 9 week old baby today and never once did i think, “Oh shit man! No way can I do this again!” i just went into baby mode and it was fine. it helped that the sweetums was cooing and smiling and cute, but not too cute - cute in a nobody-will-surpass-the-cuteness-of-my-own-kid kind of way.
however, i still feel the need to isolate myself from others. like, i know i’m not good company, i’m not fun, i can’t drink, and my body is not my own. and i’m just trying to contain the toxic radiation that’s coming off of me.
not even Rock of Love makes me feel better.