Poor Kid

As the weeks grow closer to my due date, I start to feel more and more sorry for my five year old. I am not a very pleasant person to be around right now, what with being super uncomfortable and sore and hormonal.

I do my best to make sure that she knows that my short temper isn’t her fault, but that doesn’t make it easier on her I’m sure. Especially not when I usually am fairly level headed. I mean I have a temper, she would know, she has the same one, but at the same time five is a pretty young age to have a mother go through all the crazy mood changes that come with growing another human being.

I feel, especially these past few days, that I am doing her a great disservice. That I am not really parenting to the best of my ability. That there are things that I am doing that will upset her even more. Not to mention the fact that it really doesn’t get easier in the next year. Once the babe is less a new born, then it gets better, but that is only if there are no complications and everything works out the way that I want it to. That hardly ever happens in real life.

I still long for the days when I could put myself into any TV show that I wanted and pretend that I lived there for a while. When did I allow reality to get so, uh, real?

 

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