Ranting ... Unnecessarily ....

I swear on all that is sacred, my hormones have not been this out of whack since I was 13 and filled with manufactured angst.

Some days, I'm super Des. I clean, I cook (Yes! I have begun to cook of my own free will! Remind me to tell you about my slamming alfredo sauce). I look after De Chile and Chef. I shop, I exercise, I remember to eat all my meals, drink all my water and take all my vitamins. I write fiendishly, meeting deadlines left, right and centre. I read non-fiction.

And then there are the days (thankfully fewer) where I bathe neither myself or De Chile. Ok you can stop throwing rocks, it only happened twice. Days when I am tired and overwhelmed by work, by caring for a baby, by being awake. Chef tries to help, but he just started a new and very demanding job. It's a stressful time for us both.

I always try to be honest with you, so I will not stop that now. My pregnancy was not planned. In fact, it came as a shock. And please, keep all the cute comments about, "Don't you know how babies are made?" to yourself. We are not the first (bright, educated) couple that this has happened to and we won't be the last. And we love our daughter to death. But these things do take getting used to, so I'm still adjusting to the idea of being a mother. It comes easier now; still, there are moments of doubt and panic and fear to deal with and push aside in the momentum of living.

But generally, I'm ok. I have a beautiful, healthy, basically easy to please baby, a husband who is even easier to please, a supportive family and a brand new 8 foot book case to put all my books in. Have you ever lived with most of your library in boxes for a year? You'd be ecstatic too. I thank God. I try to count my blessings, even on the bad days. I try to keep writing, no matter what. Sometimes writing is my prayer, my cry out, my way of finding my Centre. And to survive, I need to hold on to that, if nothing else.