Emotionale

I picked up my packet of Seasonale from the pharmacy yesterday. As anyone who has used the pill before knows, I won't start taking them until my favorite monthly friend makes its return. Judging by my sudden ability to cry at the drop of a hat and new addiction to Goldfish, I'm guessing that will be sooner than later.

There are the obvious reasons to cry--Grandpa dying, our financial woes, my inability to button any pair of pants I wore pre-Moosebaby. But there are others, too.

Next week is my last week of maternity leave. The last week I will spend home with Moosebaby. And I hate the thought of being away from him all day. I can't believe it's already been almost two months--two months!--since he was born. Two months since summer officially began. Two months closer to another winter. Two months closer to my baby not being a baby anymore, and turning into a mouthy little kid who can tear my heart out with his words, just like his brother.

I guess that's the thing--I have a huge problem with endings. I always have. End of summer, end of Christmas, end of Halloween, end of infancy, end of childhood. Unfortunately, everything ends eventually (except maybe herpes), so I guess I'd better suck it up and get used to it.

But that doesn't mean I have to like it.