Weary

My little peanut woke up at 5:30 a.m. this morning. I got her to go back to sleep for about 1/2 hour, but then she was clamoring for me to read to her. She wasn't content to look at books on her own or play in her room while mommy slept. She is throwing full on temper tantrums when I won't read to her. Lest I give the wrong impression, let me assure you, we read to her constantly. But I really don't know how much more Richard Scarry I can take. We checked out a huge new selection at the libary this week, but still, the children's literature is getting to me.

What I've gained from having Audrey is immeasurable. But there have also been some losses. Two years later, I feel I'm still trying to reassemble or redefine my sense of self. Every day I experience moments of joy like never before because of her. But along with that I experience deep anxieties about what I would do if anything ever happened to her (or Lindsey). My emotions are so raw these days. I feel so lucky and almost undeserving of such happiness. I really need to get over it, embrace the goodness, and just live already.