"Rapunzel, Rapunzel .... let down your golden nipple hairs."

As soon as I hit publish on my last post, my thoughts started to fester. "AM I ok with Mr TCs cancer? Am I in denial? How come I'm so tough about it? Is it just bravado? OMG MY HUSBAND HAS CANCER!!!" .... and so it continued, until I fell into a spiral again. I am in the biggest slump right now .... my bedroom is DISGUSTING. You cannot see the floor. I had this bright idea that a spring clean will make me feel better, so I emptied the entire contents of my cupboard on the floor, to "force" myself to sort through them. I started too .... then I kept coming across my pregnancy clothes, which I wore with such joy and anticipation in my heart. I was looking forward to the baby so much. And then, suddenly, I stopped looking forward to the baby, baby was born into chaos, baby cried a lot. And I would think, "Baby! Stop that crying right now! Don't you know daddy has cancer and mummy cannot deal with your issues!!" Nice.

Of course, we are out of that stage now. Monkey is interactive, smiling, says "Ma" (yes he really does and no-one is telling me otherwise). This morning I felt all fucked up, I was changing his nappy. I tickled him, and he laughed. The sound of a tinkling angel, my God he is just delightful. I carried him to his cot for a nap, and absentmindedly said out loud "Oh, thank GOD I love you!"

So, I have the messy bedroom of a twelve year old, and CANNOT seem to clean it. I lay on my clothes-strewn bed yesterday and played Mario and ate chocolate. I have articles due, need to return about 500 emails ... and I sit like a sloth. I will get my work done - always do. We need the money.  It's real addict behaviour, and is actually a form of self-abuse. Because I do things that feel good in the moment, but I KNOW it makes me feel like a worthless piece of shit. So, I'm blogging about it, in the hopes it can shift. I'm tempted to post a photo of my room, but am too ashamed. It's funny how I will put nice clothes on today, and run errands, and people will see the outside of me and think "Oh, a woman with a baby! How sweet!" But on the inside I feel so low and terrible.

As they say in recovery .. this, too, shall pass. BUT SO DO KIDNEY STONES.

*sigh*

I'm in the process of setting up a google reader account. I keep missing peoples posts and playing catch up. I will update my blogroll too, as I think they are important. Please let me know if you would like to be added.

I will end this post on a very funny, gross thing. Because, I'm thoughtful like that ....

Yesterday, I was in the shower. Now, lately, I have been losing a lot of my hair, as you do after the baby is born. I look down, and see strands of long hair on my boobies. I brush them away .... but they don't come off. Why? Because they were attached to my nipples. Long, golden strands of boob hair, getting lathered by my shampoo.

I swear ... with those plus my incessant chin hairs, I could grow Mr TC his own wig. Except, we would look like brother and sister because we would have matching red hair.