you're invited to a pity party.
my pity party.
and really, i don't want your pity.
just your permission to whine.
also, why am i asking permission?
anyway.
today, miles threw up.
the first two, i somehow dodged.
then he got wade.
twice.
and then he got me.
twice.
once it went down my shirt.
that felt awesome.
then i showered.
and he got me again.
and then wade.
and we started a competition to see who got hit the most.
i think we tied with an even 4 each.
and my poor little baby hasn't eaten anything since this morning.
it breaks my heart.
it breaks my heart even more that we paid for an instacare visit when our insurance starts in, yes, 4 DAYS.
now onto me being frank.
i feel that this is probably too personal for my liking.
yes, too personal. as if all my stories about me being allergic to my husband and throw up going down my shirt aren't personal enough. only its a different kind of personal. the kind of personal where i tell you why sometimes i hate myself. that some days i say to myself, "what on earth am i even doing with my life." which is, of course, related to all things in my life. and then there's the times where i am editing 17,000 pictures on my computer and i think to myself, "really? am i doing this because i love it?" and most of the time, i do love it. but there are times when i just want to throw my camera out the window and publicly declare that i have banned all forms of photography, personal and professional from my life, because try as i might, i just can't get where i want to be with it. and i take classes and i study my brain out, and how many possible ways can there really be to properly expose a picture? and then i start comparing myself to everyone else and it becomes not fun anymore. sometimes, i feel like there is some hidden trick that everyone is hiding from me. and then my precious husband, who doesn't even know the difference between aperture and shutter speed (bless his heart) tries to tell me i'm being too hard on myself. and while we are talking about things that get me down, you should also know that i am no good at public speaking. i hate large groups. i avoid social gatherings like the plague. in fact, get me in a group with more than three people and i will probably shut down. which surprises some people because i can honestly say that i am shy and they laugh in my face. but guess what. I AM SHY. and very self conscious. and if you say something to me that could even remotely be close to an insult, i will probably worry about it for nights on end before i fall asleep, (which is another reason for me to say bless wade's heart.) oh, and that brings up another point. i worry. non-stop. i drive my own self crazy sometimes. and instead of doing something about it, i just do nothing. which causes me to procrastinate, which causes my days to be stressful, and my nights to be long and sleepless and my mornings to be, well, horrible. which thank goodness that my mom likes to take my baby for walks. and then i add to the list of things to worry about: #305497 my baby will like my mom more than me.
now that i've exposed my soul, who wants to join my pity party?
only please, no more than 3 people are allowed at once.
