Self-indulgent

My whining seems pretty heartily self-indulgent after listening to Louisa's day/night/day today. Hope you get the lengthy episode of unconsciousness you need, Louisa.

We're all kind of wondering, after the supporting-a-midwife primer we had this week (class ended at 8:15pm on Thursday, and I was literally in that building for over 12 hours...how ya like that one?) how in the fuck we're going to be able to handle it when we're doing both practicum and actual school work. We've been told that THIS is our hardest quarter...but that, eh, well, I wouldn't say the other ones are EASIER, just DIFFERENT.

This sounds suspiciously like the sugar-coated-shit everyone serves parents-to-be. It will be "different."

I hope that for ME, "different" means: "My life is in perpetual turmoil, and I have some days where I want to curl up in a corner and sing Itsy Bitsy Spider to myself (thanks for that visual, Kate), but I would not take it back for the WORLD, because other days are so awesome I can barely contain it...and the rest are just LIFE." Which, incidentally, is the kind of "different" that parenthood brought me.

Oh, this will be fun to read when I'm a senior student...