Don’t worry about me. I’m almost never as unhappy as the last post made me sound. My husband said something about running that struck a nerve (even though he didn’t mean to) and I went off. I’m over it. I’m running tonight. I’ll run the suggested distances in the training plan, no matter how long it takes. And, even if it kills me, I intend to at least lose enough weight that my maternity clothes fit comfortably before I get pregnant again (I weigh 15 pounds more than I did before getting pregnant with Meg). I CAN DO IT. At least until the Blathering comes and I gain it all back:-P
Meg had a hard time adjusting back to the real world today. At camp, it really did seem like we were in our own, perfect world. Meg was the only small child amongst 35 pre-teens and their mothers and they all told her how adorable she was. We were at a small Christian camp, so she wasn’t required to stay right next to me. As long as she was in sight, I let her run free. My sister was in charge of the camp, so she really got to go everywhere – into the kitchens to taste dinner, up to the sound booth to help her aunt run the power point, pretty much wherever she wanted.
This morning, there were 15 kids in the nursery and none of them seemed to know Meg is a princess. They weren’t interested in telling her how cute she was or letting her have anything she wanted. In fact, there was one little girl who kept trying to steal her toys. It was quite painful for Meg to go from one extreme to the other. She spent most of nursery screaming when another child came near her and trying to hoard toys.
After church, we went out for lunch with my (other) sister and her husband and it drove Meg CRAZY that we wouldn’t let her roam the restaurant. She screamed when we tried to hold her hand. She doesn’t much like the real world, where she has to share toys and hold hands in public. Its obvious she wants to go back to camp. Me too, kid, me too.