Bigfella has two dadas...

he loves his dadas. And they love him. When he sees them, he points and screams, "dada! dada!" and his little face lights up as he grins from ear to ear. he chortles out belly laughs when his dadas come in the house.

he loves to play outside with his dadas. He loves when he gets to crawl on top of one of them and snuggle up close. When he eats, he always shares his meal with his dadas. His favorite thing to do each evening when we get home is to run to the kitchen to get his dadas a milkbone.

They run with him, tails wagging. And then they sit patiently, waiting for him to give them their treat.

Do you ever feel?

Do you ever feel like your time and attention are being pulled in so many directions that there is no way you can do anything well--let alone everything?

Do you ever feel like no matter how hard you try, you will end up disappointing someone, especially yourself?

Do you ever feel like even though you want to drop some of your obligations, you just can't bring yourself to do it?

Do you ever feel selfish for wanting to keep those obligations because the activities are things that help define you, even though you are doing a piss-poor job at them, and they are taking away from other things?


I don't even want to get into the list of things that are piling up around me, and the numerous ways I feel like I have failed at the things I set out to do. I just want to know I am not alone...

What about you?? What are the things that are weighing you down?

worst blogger ever...

...i think i have been in a seasonal affective disorder fog. I spent most of the semester hiding from my advisor because i was too embarrassed to tell him I messed up some administrative paperwork. I finally owned up today, and he was fine with it.

what a fucking waste of energy.

I also went to the gynecologist today for my pap and annual. My hooha is totally hosed. I piss on my self when I run, and sometimes have such bad constipation that the shit bulges from my ass toward my vaginal wall. So, the doc referred me for physical therapy. He said I might need surgery, but won't do it (or refer me out, which is more likely since he doesn't do pelvic floor rehab) until we are done having babies. Since the next one may dwarf Bigfella--who was 10 pounds 5 ounces, the doc doesn't want to have to do the repair twice.

Which brings me to another point. When we were there, surrounded by the preggos, watching them weigh themselves, and rub their bellies, it totally made me want to do it again.

We don't know when for sure, but the doc said he hopes he sees me again before my annual next year. He was totally smitten with Bigfella, and said he can't wait for us to have another....

we'll see if I do a better job updating this. I'm not making any promises. I know myself too well.