Edie is sick for the millionth time this year.
I really thought we were done - Spring had arrived, bringing with it, the end of cold and flu season. But instead I am back in my own personal hell of being woken up every 20 minutes, all night long by coughing and weeping (but not necessarily in that order). I think at 1am last night -- after being woken for the 9th time by an angry coughing fit turned need for a (specific) sweater to wear over her pajamas (?) that I told her I couldn't find and she yelled, "ACTUALLY you CAN!" like I was a total idiot -- I might have apologized to Jeff for ever talking him into making a baby with me, thereby ruining our lives forever and ever.
Anyways, apologies for the lack of posts. And for my bad attitude. Obvi, I don't really wish my kid away. It's just that I'm so very tired. And being a parent is the hardest job that you can't ever quit. For even a minute.
Sooooo, thanks for coming to my pity party without realizing you'd RSVP'd to the lamest party ever.
I'd like to share our Easter weekend photos (of which there are many), but I have no energy to write something thoughtful. It's 9:30 and I'm heading to bed, John-Bruton-style. Actually, if I was really trying to rip off my Dad's style, I'd fall asleep on top of the bed with my book tented on my chest. At 9pm. Or maybe even 8:45. And I'd definitely be snoring loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Hi Dad! Love you.