I have a lot to say these days. But, you'd never know it from my blog updates. I just never have the chance to write it down. Or I get too overwhelmed by too many things to say, too many directions that I could take any given entry. So, I'm just going to write. Today, I feel overwhelmed by the responsibility of raising my children. I am completely disappointed in myself and my lack of patience, kindness, and caring towards my toddler. And embarrased at the realization that many times I'm way too hard on Daniel. I think I expect too much of him sometimes. I found myself saying to him this morning, as I was trying to hustle him out of the house to Mother's Day Out "Come on, I know you can concentrate better than this because you're ...." and then I thought, how should that sentence end? "Because you're two?" Yeah, cause we all know two year olds are known for their ability to concentrate on complex tasks. Sometimes I feel so bad that I can't devote more time to him and just him. And other times I feel so guilty for not oohing and aahing over every little thing that Georgia does. Sometimes I feel like they get so little of me, that neither one of them really get what they need. Which ushers in the mother guilt of having my kids so close together. I guess this is where the casual observer might say "I told you so" and where all heads will start to wag at the fact that we broke the sacred rule of 2.5-3 year child spacing. Yeah , yeah, I know. I thought it might be slightly easier by now, but the truth is, it never gets easier. It just gets different. The difficulties rearrange themselves, but the level of constant work, of feeling like my head is barely above water, its, well, constant. Ah, I had so much to say. But the non-napping 2 yr old has started throwing cars in his room which has woken up the very miserable 10 month old. And the fun begins again.