I cried at the daycare today, for myself, at my disorganization and indecisiveness since having a child. Our provider nodded, and told her own story of how she was splitting at the seams when her first child was born. I hadn't even known I was feeling emotional until the tears were spilling down my face. That's significant frustration. In a few days, I start back at a paying job. I fantasize about what it will be like without the interruption of sippie cup refills, toddler whining, and howls for "UMIZOOMI!!!" Honestly, it's almost impossible to imagine. I barely know how to prepare. I bought clothes that might look terrible. In fact, my Groupon-priced hairstyle is slightly tragic. It doesn't really matter, though, my mind looks forward to the psychological rest. It has become clear that my temperament does not easily adjust to distraction. And, specifically to the distractions coming from my own child. There is something about his wails that hit me in the ...