I'm writing this while I listen to Avalon with hysterical tears dripping down her face. I've patted her for long enough to get a severe case of heartburn and aching legs that feel as though the veins will explode if i don't give them some time out. And unfortunately, 10 minutes patting and rubbing her while leaning over the cot is the best I can do with my pregnant limitations at the moment. It's such a shame that this is a repeat scenario every Friday and Sunday night when Craig's out and can't assist. It's almost as though she knows.
So I'm sitting here, trying to regain some type of strength so I can head back in and do some more stroking before my legs and arms give way under the strain of carrying another child.
I guess it's times like this where I sometimes think it would be so much easier to have a 3 year old and be in this situation. There's much less guilt when they're fully aware of what is required of them and they have the developed mind to understand what is meant by "it's time to sleep".
Needless to say, I've had a straining day today and I'm feeling more than a little sorry for myself, as Ava has only had 20 minutes sleep all day, and myself, 10.
Ok, I'm gonna head back in to the zone and try to permeate calmness out of my pores despite feeling like I've been listening to nails down a chalkboard for the last month. (deep breath)
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