Ah, those blues

It's raining here again. It's been raining for about a week.

Some mornings, after my husband leaves for work, I convince Baby Girl she wants to go back to bed just so I can go back to bed. On some of those mornings, I take a quick nap and then pop up and carry on with my day. Usually, though, I end up bringing her to my bed to snuggle and play because I have trouble moving or getting out of bed.

I know, know, that what I need to do is get up, get dressed and have a day. I know that I need to turn off my computer, read a book, exercise, get out of the house at least a little. But what I feel like doing and what I'll feel good doing aren't the same.

I'm reading again, which is good - although my last choice, The Last Time They Met: A Novel
, left me in a horrible funk that lasted for days. Next time, I'll look for something more uplifting. Reading, though, makes me feel more like me. It keeps the days from all seeming the same.

And Baby Girl, who is right now sleeping on my chest because when I put her down, she immediately woke up, turned to look at me, furrowed her eyebrows (she did!), and let out a little whimper that clearly said, "Mommy! This is not going to happen"? She can stay right here with me because nothing makes me feel calmer and stronger than loving her.