I just had a contraction. I can't focus on one thing for more than a couple of hours.
His baby tai chi is becoming less jerky. When he says his first few words.
I've been very busy chronically my experiments with the early stages of labor on my pregnancy blog. I've never wished to return to Ashburn, Virginia, and I probably never will. The funeral was quiet and tearful, with very little remembrance from her sons and grandsons who couldn't talk for the tears.
I wonder sometimes if I'll get it all done; I worry every day about letting someone down, and I'm always remembering things that I've forgotten.
Or something of the sort.
We went so far as, when looking for our house, half-joking with our real estate agent that this room or that room would be good for the foster kids.
The next day I confessed to letting Truman sleep on his tummy.
I'm habitually late to everything, and I have at least a dozen projects I've started and not finished scattered around the house.
, I have my mom's group. The funeral was quiet and tearful, with very little remembrance from her sons and grandsons who couldn't talk for the tears. Not happening in this house, baby. Guess which one prompted more response, and, more criticism?
It didn't seem like a big deal at the time; people were busy, three of the moms had three children at home now, and I know that's a lot to handle.
But when I'm around other people's infants? When he can ask me for a hot dog with checkup.
In a year I've gone from just a mama to "cafe mama. Instead, I made an album for her, of Everett, and wrote how much he wanted to meet her. But looking back on it, I knew that much of my disappointment was because of my impatience and inexperience.
It will be our landmark - "turn at the Starbucks by the Kupie Cone sign! Almost immediately, our group was nine members, and our first book was The Bitch in the House.
But looking back on it, I knew that much of my disappointment was because of my impatience and inexperience. I'm just pretty terrible at all the rest. Permission is a lovely thing. Not that contractions are anything new. I can be walking down a street and a one-year-old will zoom in on me, follow me with her eyes as we exchange giggling googly eyes.
On the other hand, I feel terribly guilty when I'm working.
She had so much happiness, yet an equal measure of empathy. But some of the time, when I'm not juggling Everett's needs and work, I can be present, I can do it all.
When we arrived home, it was obvious my dreams of turning the boys over to daddy for the afternoon so I could devote every moment to working were for naught. I'm also going to investigate Tucker-Maxon Oral School; it's received rave reviews from my old nanny-sharer. Guess which one prompted more response, and, more criticism? The miscarriage happened in the weeks leading up to the birth of Destiny's first child, my niece Nehalem.