Sep 11, 2011 17:55
So here I am, getting stuff done all week LIKE A BOSS, and on Saturday I find myself in my therapist's office, telling her about how awesomely productive I've been despite the whole Pregnancy Crisis 2011.*
Dr. L: So... you've been awesomely productive. (crack) Despite Aaron working ridiculous hours, you've gone to the park, kept the house semi-clean, and managed the kid.
Me: Yup. Do you think I'm manic?
Dr. L: Nope, you're normal. You're stable, even--congratulations! But... (crack crack crack)
Me: What's up?
Dr. L: Well, (crack) I think you're running around so hard because you have to.
(CRASH! And the facade comes tumbling down.)
Me: Oh. Oh, my stars. I'm exhausted. I didn't know how tired I was until you said that.
And I am. Having worked roughly 10am-1am for the past two weeks, Aaron has to continue that grueling schedule for the next three. Nolan's going through a growth spurt/phase wherein he melts down and tantrums on the floor, kicking and screaming.** I used to stay awake until Aaron came home to greet him, but I don't know how long I can handle that. Daycare has never looked so tantalizing.
*Stupid brain playing tricks on me. Probably. I'll let you know ASAP.
**Yes, this is totally normal. AUGH.