Not the real bum like ass bum, the hobo kind of bum.
I’ve spent the last couple of days with a fevery, whiny toddler who will not relinquish more than two feet between us without screeching and whining.
I love my baby. So much. But as much as I love her, being in such close quarters with ANYONE OR THING for extended amounts of time makes tempers and fuses kind of short.
Please tell me you understand this.
I love that I get to stay at home. I’m thankful that I have a husband who wants me to be home. I love that I’m seeing all the little milestones that I missed with the other two.
But sometimes…sometimes I forget how to speak adult language, or I find myself swaying to comfort a baby I’m not holding, or I haven’t qtipped my ears in four days.
Things like that.
I feel terrible saying these things because I know that there are people who would do anything to stay home with their kids. I know I’m blessed to have a healthy and happy brood. I feel terrible also that I just used the word “brood.”
It’s just sometimes I realize that I really have nothing interesting to say or do. I don’t go out, I’m not involved. And if I do try to involve myself in anything I end up resenting the obligation.
And then I bitch about it on the Internet.
Lucy drew this.