Sometimes, I feel a little sorry for myself right now. Being a mother is such a grind. It's just hard work all the time. I rarely get breaks. I'm certainly not working creatively at the level I'd like and the sleep deprivation is just…beyond.
Sometimes, I am hunkered down in bed with my son - nursing him - and I think, "Oh God, how much longer do I have to do this?"
Sometimes, I really want that hunker-down time because *I* need a rest, but my son is like, "NOPE."
Also - I never thought I'd ever be so concerned about poop (which my son has not done since Tuesday, It's coming….and it's going to be monstrous.)
I printed up some poems that I'll be working on over the next few months.
That's all I have for you today.
Sometimes, I am hunkered down in bed with my son - nursing him - and I think, "Oh God, how much longer do I have to do this?"
Sometimes, I really want that hunker-down time because *I* need a rest, but my son is like, "NOPE."
Also - I never thought I'd ever be so concerned about poop (which my son has not done since Tuesday, It's coming….and it's going to be monstrous.)
I printed up some poems that I'll be working on over the next few months.
That's all I have for you today.
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