May 10

I should stop reading the news, but I can't.  I should stop and eating carbs and junk, but I can't.  I am worn down and sad.

Nevertheless, it has been a good enough Mother's Day so far.  I have never had a "real" Mother's Day, in the sense of a day of ease, breakfast in bed, a special fuss.  David has worked every single Mother's Day I have been a mother, and I have frequently been out of town as well.

So this morning he made sourdough pancakes, eggs, bacon, strawberries, coffee, and then cleaned most of it up again, and that was nice.

William wished me a Happy Mother's Day and has been as decent as he can be right now- nice between bouts of halfhearted hitting and kicking.  He read Margaret a book she wanted to have read to her and played trains with her on the carpet; he is sweet underneath all the drama and anxiety.

I only worked a little bit today, and I may not practice.

Margaret spends her naptime yelping and singing to herself in her crib.  She is irrepressible, and one of the only joys of this long period of pain has been getting to know her better.