Why Eden Can't Sleep
Leg cramps.
Trying to figure out how to sew the perfect applique without it being all crooked and bunchy like it was last time (sorry, Audrey and John.).
Too much thinking about work.
I should write more essays and make more lessons.
My legs hurt.
Someone is snoring in my bed. I'm glad there's at least one person in the house sleeping.
Worried about cribs, dressers, justifying my parenting to critical moms, being green, buying the best diapers, guilty overconsumption vs. the "need" for a jumparoo, pack and play, bouncy seat and a swing, and choosing the right curtains.
Heartburn. Reflux.
What IS that laundry detergent made from, anyway? If it's so eco-friendly why isn't there a damn list of ingredients on the package?
I started counting backwards from 300 and got bored somewhere around 174. I even tried to mix it up and count by threes and eights.
Toilet paper is expensive on Amazon. I'm surprised by that. So much for recurring orders.
Legs.....hurt......muscles
.....sore....wahhhhhh.
I want to learn to quilt so I can make Geneva a bedspread.
And speaking of G, I hope she's not getting sick.
I'm hungry.
What the hell are we going to name this baby? Too bad Steve won't go for Clementine.
I kept trying to picture a peaceful, rural scene in my mind and could only picture the playground at school, which made me think of kickball, which made me think of bickering and skinned knees, which made me think of that time I cut myself shaving my legs (um, yesterday) and maybe I should get up and put some Neosporin on it.
All car seats are sort of the same, right? Why am I so clueless about this parenting stuff this time around? I mean, G turned out okay, and she probably used a subpar carseat, and I'm fairly sure her crib was recalled as well. It's just a lot more stressful than when I was young and unprepared.
I should probably start looking for childcare.
My legs hurt.
Trying to figure out how to sew the perfect applique without it being all crooked and bunchy like it was last time (sorry, Audrey and John.).
Too much thinking about work.
I should write more essays and make more lessons.
My legs hurt.
Someone is snoring in my bed. I'm glad there's at least one person in the house sleeping.
Worried about cribs, dressers, justifying my parenting to critical moms, being green, buying the best diapers, guilty overconsumption vs. the "need" for a jumparoo, pack and play, bouncy seat and a swing, and choosing the right curtains.
Heartburn. Reflux.
What IS that laundry detergent made from, anyway? If it's so eco-friendly why isn't there a damn list of ingredients on the package?
I started counting backwards from 300 and got bored somewhere around 174. I even tried to mix it up and count by threes and eights.
Toilet paper is expensive on Amazon. I'm surprised by that. So much for recurring orders.
Legs.....hurt......muscles
.....sore....wahhhhhh.
I want to learn to quilt so I can make Geneva a bedspread.
And speaking of G, I hope she's not getting sick.
I'm hungry.
What the hell are we going to name this baby? Too bad Steve won't go for Clementine.
I kept trying to picture a peaceful, rural scene in my mind and could only picture the playground at school, which made me think of kickball, which made me think of bickering and skinned knees, which made me think of that time I cut myself shaving my legs (um, yesterday) and maybe I should get up and put some Neosporin on it.
All car seats are sort of the same, right? Why am I so clueless about this parenting stuff this time around? I mean, G turned out okay, and she probably used a subpar carseat, and I'm fairly sure her crib was recalled as well. It's just a lot more stressful than when I was young and unprepared.
I should probably start looking for childcare.
My legs hurt.