Bring on the new day

Connor has been trying to show us that he understands the word no. He's not displaying this new found understanding by stopping what he's doing when we tell him no, but instead doing the things that he knows will result in "No" and shaking his head. Things like taking his pants off. There he stands, in the middle of the living room with his pants down around his ankles, the weight of his stare heavy with his seriousness and shakes his head no. He pulls the cats tail and shakes his head no. But best of all was his demontration that we don't hit Mommy with toys. He crawled up in my lap, a plastic drumstick in his hand, cracking me over the head so hard I saw stars and then making sure he was only inches away from my face shook his head no.

"That's right honey, we don't hit Mommy in the head with toys", I replied to him once I'd recovered. The look of pride beamed across his face while I just tried to take deep breaths.

I can't sleep tonight. I'm not sure why, I should be exhausted as it's way past my bedtime and the fetus is still sucking out all of my life force. I think it's because I can't stop thinking about this children's book that I read before bed, The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane. It's a book about a china rabbit doll, and it's SO DAMN SAD. It's about 100 pages so it was a quick read, but chapter after chapter it just gets sadder and sadder until he finds his way home in the end. I sat up in bed crying over this damn china rabbit and it was all I could do not to surrender to complete and utter sobbing. I'm so hormonal I can't stand myself. Jorma bought the book for us to read to Connor once he's up to chapter books as a bedtime story. I don't think I'll be able to do it though. It's traumatized me. Not to worry, I'm sure tomorrow my mood will swing the other way and I'll be so happy everytime I speak sunshine and butterflies will pour out of my mouth. Bring on the new day.