I tried to go to bed. I tried to go to sleep. It was early, but all I could think was that I wanted to be alone. So I lifted Sophia's head off of my right arm and gently laid it down on her half-pillow (the only one that fits in between Mike's and mine on our bed- because if she doesn't have her own pillow when she's in there, she rests her giant 3 year old head on mine, and then I might as well sleep on the floor..)

Today was a bad day. Tonight was a bad night.

I mentioned putting Sophia's booster seat together. She reached the 40 pound weight limit for the 5 point harness, so we had to convert it. My 3 year old is the size of a small 6 year old. My three year old is the size that I think her sister would be, at 5. My three year old put her arm around my neck today and said, "Don't cry, mama. Please don't cry." I told her I was crying because she is getting so big, which is partly true. I told her I am happy to watch her get bigger, which is all the way true. Even on the bad days, the days I feel hopeless and empty- I am thankful to see one of my girls growing up.

I can't explain how hard it is to not be angry. How exhausting it is to constantly be thankful and grateful and happy and how hard it is just to try to be normal. How lonely I feel sometimes.

Tonight, because today was so bad, I am going to be selfish and sad and angry.

But when I go back to bed, I will slide my right arm back under Sophia's giant three year old head, and I will take a deep breath, and I will close my eyes, and I will stop.