Monday, 8am

Mondays at 8am are the most dreaded time of all. It marks the time when Nathan will be gone for 10 hours a day for 5 consecutive days. It is sad that I dread it so because it happens to be the majority of my waking hours. I want to enjoy my son. I want to live in joyful expectation of what is to come each day. I want to have Purpose and live each day to the fullest. Instead, I feel dread for when Nathan leaves. I am soooo tired from this pregnancy and being awoken frequently at night by Ethan. I don't feel like a real person. My eyes hurt, my head hurts, and I can barely concentrate on anything most of the time. Maybe in June when I am supposed to feel less tired and sick I will be more joyful about life. Until then I am trying to stay as positive as I can so I don't become depressed. Example: At least I don't live in the 1800s where I would have lived alone on a farm and had to have churned butter while trying to watch Ethan and be pregnant. I can sit in my air-conditioned apartment and watch as Ethan torments the dog and the dog has anxiety attacks. Far better than butter churning. How did those women do it? Ok. 8:30. 9 and a half hours to go until 6.