I woke up this morning having a mini-temper tantrum. Maybe this is an indication that I am about to start my period (you know. Aunt Flow is comin’ to town). It’s a damn good thing I work from home because no one, NO ONE, wants to see me today all pouty and pitiful. Here was my internal conversation.
Pitiful J (PJ): I don’t want to DO this anymore.
Real J (RJ): Yes you do. You know you do.
PJ: I do not. I am tired of figuring this out. You know how ADHD I get when things get hard, I shut down. I am shutting down.
RJ: No you aren’t. Oh hey! No baby this month means you can pop your ADHD drugs again. Score. But seriously, you want this. A perfect little J. or S. Jr. to cuddle and snuggle and watch grow up to a cool kid. You told S. last night you want a little hipster baby. Remember the onsie with a fake tie?
PJ: God. What are you? A motivational poster? I am pouty. And tired. And confused. And frustrated!
RJ: Okay, you win. Today. Be pouty, feel sorry for yourself, pick your nail polish off, watching bad tv while working, sing along to Glee and drink lots of Diet Coke. But that’s it. Tomorrow you put on your effing big girl panties and figure it out. FIGURE. IT. OUT.
PJ: Fair enough.
When I started this blog, I remember I said I was trying to keep it fun? Well it’s not always fun. And that’s okay. I’ve done lots of things that weren’t fun, but they led to fun things. Like my Mama says, use it as guilt in a few years. She reminds me often I was 9 days late with a big head. But those 9 days and however many hours of big headed labor resulted in fun right? Right?
Tomorrow will be better. Todays sucks.
