This is the little turd FINALLY napping after screaming bloody murder because he got his leg wedged in the crib rails up to his thigh. This picture is taken after he threw a fit and pulled the curtains down and then passed out.
Ahhhhhhhh.
That's the sound of my brain relaxing. I now have a clean house. I cleaned like a crazy lady yesterday. How come I always forget that cleaning can be therapeutic? Turn on some loud music and you can really get into it! I even rearranged all the furniture around. I have this compulsion to move furniture, I don't know, to improve the Feng Shui or something.
So after my cleaning purge yesterday, I collapsed and had a nap with Angus and then cooked lasagne for dinner, and then wasted the evening in front of the TV with Aaron. It made me realize that I CAN do it all. I CAN clean and be a parent and work. I just have to admit that I'm a lazy person and need to get my arse moving. I spent all of last week (what did I even do??) NOT cleaning ANYTHING and procrastinating on my work that I ended up scrambling to get done at the last minute. Why do I do that? I think I might be manic. No really. Last week I felt very depressed and unmotivated and overwhelmed by even the smallest thing. I moped and slothed around for an entire week. My method of dealing with everything was avoidance. (That doesn't work, by the way.)
The yesterday I accomplished everything with the energy of a mother taking her kid's Ritalin. (Sorry, bad analogy. I assure you I'm not on any drugs.) I don't know WHERE the energy came from, and I felt so happy and excited that I couldn't contain it. And then when I was done I just crashed and felt kind of depressed and irritable by the end of the day.
On Sunday when I turned my work in I emailed my boss and asked her if I could have the week off (I couldn't bring myself to actually quit, which is probably a good thing.) and yesterday when I was feeling like Superwoman, I emailed her again and told her that I actually WAS available. And then I spent the rest of the evening having a panic attack that she would think I was a complete lunatic (which might be accurate.) When she got back to me, she was very nice and joked around with me and we emailed back and forth, and we're, like, BEST FRIENDS now. She told me I was her favorite transcriptionist, because of my personality. (I didn't know personality could show up in emails!) As it turns out she's only 22! This got me thinking, if she can be a reflexologist AND have her own company when she's only 22, why can't I be a mom and have MY own transcription business?
Anyway. Moving along.
I've been meaning to write a letter to Angus, but I haven't got around to it yet. The thing that's holding me back is the awareness that there's going to be a lot of talk about his love of my boobs, and since I want to give him these letters when he's grown up, I'm worried that it'll embarrass him. But they are his favorite thing right now, so I don't know how I can avoid talking about it.
Last night after his 12th nursing session in the middle of the night, I clumsily went to put him back in his crib, but being that I have absolutely no grace at the best of times and was not very awake, I completely missed the crib, and rammed his head right into the crib rails. I screamed, and Aaron thought I had dropped him. He cried for a minute and then went right back to sleep, but then I couldn't sleep because I was worried that I had knocked him unconscious and caused him brain damage.
I really need to get him a helmet.
By the way, it's snowing. SNOWING. IT'S MARCH!!!
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