I sit here, on my day off, groggy from a night of Katelyn screaming every hour. It's not a good day. All I can think of is how I don't want to clean the house, or finish laundry left over from the weekend, or even get dressed. We're headed to Texas, then Vegas, in 6 weeks, and I am down on myself for not exercising as much as I need to or eating the right things all the time. I am the heaviest I have ever been, and while I know I need to give myself more time, it doesn't help me feel any better about myself.
It's just not a good day, and I want to go back to bed [and sleep for 8 hours] and wake up on the other side.
Too bad I have no control over this anymore, for that little 15-lb 6.5 month-old rules the roost these days.
I'm ready for the old Stacia to be back.
