Preggo

I have the pregnancy weeps today. That’s all I can describe it as. It’s a day where I need to just stay home, cuddle Milo and cry. A lot.

Instead, I’m at work tackling a really tough second week as a manager. I already love being a manager, I already love my job. Trouble is, I have what the director called a very ‘needy team’. One of my employees also went for my job and to say she is unhappy is an understatement. She is by far the most passive aggressive person I have ever known. And she used to be my friend.

This morning, I woke up to a less than cheery Milo. The boy is growing in his second molars, and the only way he knows how to let go of his upset is by having hurricane-sized tantrums for mommy. Not for daddy. Not for grandma. For mommy. He would not let me change his clothes. He would not let me make him breakfast. He wanted to scream and shout and throw his naked body around to the point I was scared he would hurt himself.

I am weepy today. I am overwhelmed. I have to be managerial and hard-headed. I don’t want to be here. I want to be home. Being a hard-ass superwoman is really difficult. I certainly am not one. You definitely can’t have everything.

I want to be 14 and be able to skip out on work, go home and wrap myself in blankets and watch stupid daytime television and only get up for snacks and provisions. I don’t want to go to meetings, plan strategies, go home and cook dinner for my son and his friend and his grandma. I don’t want to chat. I don’t want to clean.

I don’t want to be a grown up anymore.