If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.

~Thoreau (right?) Somehow I always want to attribute this to the Die Blechtrommel.

I march to a very different drum. Part of this has to do with my past. It wasn’t easy and that is a considerable understatement. I hope, in the near future to be able to work with kids about bullying and overcoming other…things.

Nuff said for now.

I have had an odd week. I am both very happy and not and I’m not yet sure what to do about it. ‘

I love what I’m doing, but not sure yet if it is the right fit or how I can make it the right fit. I can’t dooce myself so I’ll shut up. It’s got so much wonderful in it I’d really like to make it work. ((c) Tim Gunn)

This weekend I am attempting to clear out the saved toys, maternity clothes and baby supplies we had saved in hope for another child.

Because we aren’t going to have one.

And my heart is broken about this. Yes yes I know I am an emotional type. I’ve always been that way and I’m not changing now. I used to hate this about myself, but so I feel things deeply, so what. So you can count on me to REALLY commisserate with you and I can be a bit needy. Except for the fact I tend toward being a hermit.

Whatever.

I just feel the need to say that while you complain about not sleeping or your annoying second child, while you grutch about this second one not being compliant or how difficult your labor was…

 

well you know what

You are lucky it happened at all. Some of us would sell a bit of our souls for your complaints.

Just sayin. Roll your eyes all you want to at my self indulgent navel gazing, but hey–YOU, you have two kids. I have one kid and three miscarriages.

(I feel guilty about not ending this on an understanding note or being kinder, because I do love my friends with two kids, but…dammit, I’m giving away things I saved for our second child, give me a break and some understanding ok?)