I can't sleep anymore. I don't know, for like a week straight, I can't sleep. Maybe it's because Mr. F is out of town. That's so weird. I used to teach with a lady who said she couldn't sleep when her husband was out of town, and I thought it was weird then too.
My insomnia is your blogpost.
Dear people who are awake at 2 in the morning,
Do you know what I'm learning from my 9 month-old baby? We aren't so different, he and I. He's had nine and a half months to get used to this world. I've had 380, and I'm still getting used to it. There are plenty of days or moments when situations make me wait too long to eat or someone wants to do something I have no interest in or I bump my head or I burn dinner or someone says something really hurtful, and I feel exactly like that picture up there. I just want to sit down and cry and let everyone know how miserable my life is at that very moment.
But as we grow, we learn to put things in perspective. We learn to think about the other person in the situation, too. I want to get better at that.
I'm better at it than when I was a baby, but not 371.5 months better.
Plato, take us out:
That's my face too some days.
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