The quality of this blog post depends entirely on how much longer Baby Bug takes a nap. She’s already been down for an hour so I’ll be lucky if I can type for a half an hour longer.

She is so sweet when she’s sleeping. She’s sweet when she’s awake too but there is no way I can blog or do anything else other than pay attention to her when she is awake. She’s started to climb up on things and pull herself into standing position. Her favorite thing to climb is my wooden chair that I’m sitting in at my desk right now. There I am typing away, answering an email or something and I start to feel these little fingers on my lap. I look down and there’s a little person staring right back at me! Up! She wants up! She wants up in my lap.

I oblige and lift her up so she can see my desk and laptop screen. In my imagination I think we could type away happily with her sitting on my lap. In reality there is no such thing. She wants to eat my mouse. She wants to climb up onto my desk and slobber onto my keyboard. She wants my pencil and my cell phone and the tail of the cat that just happens to be sleeping near by. She doesn’t want to play quietly with her one hundred and one toys on the floor. She wants to play with my toys. The ones that have cords and plugs and go beep and click click. Silly Baby.

So where have I been these last few days? I have so much unfinished business to blog about. I apologize for leaving this blog in a lurch last Wednesday. Those of you who guessed pms were right. Blakety-blank you!! Why do you have to be so right all the time? Can’t a girl have a little mystery and dignity? Apparently not.

Apparently I can’t handle my emotions all that well either. Thankfully, I didn’t blow up at anybody. In fact when Toby called me on the road, after I just packed up and left town without so much as a note, I was calm cool and collected and told him I loved him and that nothing was wrong. Nothing is wrong. Ha!

Poor Toby. He is so understanding of me and my crazy zig zag moods. I told him how hard it was for me to distinguish between what was really making me upset and what was just my hormones making me super uber sensitive. He said he understood. “It’s kinda like being a teenager all over again, isn’t it?” he says. “You don’t know which way is up.”

He’s right. Now that I’m feeling like myself again I can’t for the life of me figure out what made me so upset in the first place. What, a little over-worked from housework and a demanding baby! Pshaw! What’s that! You can’t finish your freelance work and your clients are starting to get worried? That’s just another day at the office. Big deal! You don’t know what to fix for dinner and you have no money left in your checking account! Whoopti-doodle doo. There are people all over who don’t even have checking accounts! Get over it Brenda. Life is tough and then you move on.

So this is me moving on. I’m trying to keep myself “centered”… which reminds me of a funny story about a girl I used to work with. But I guess I’ll have to save that for another blog (along with the saga about the 70’s crib) because the baby just woke up!