The one where my eyes aren't open all the way

I'm hoping right now that my fingers know the way through this post better than my brain does.  Because right now all that's going on in my head is "Grrrrr, arrrrrgh, gguuuuuuuuhhhhh."  But if I just keep my fingers moving across the keyboard, maybe something magical will happen.  I'ts happened before.

My eyes are kind of blurry right now so I can't even see the words as they appear on my keyboard.  I know I probably just need to blink and shift them into focus again but I don't know that I particularly want to.

My feet are up on the coffee table, my ankles crosses.  My engagement ring is turned 45 degrees to the left of center so that my princess diamond skims my pinkie when I start really moving across the keys.  I know that I could fix it, but I don't think I really want to.

I stopped typing for a second there, and I just stopped.  Wasn't sure how to start again.  Stared off into space with not a single thing coming into my head.

Quiet in my head is usually a good thing.

There are things stirring around in there, though.  When we got home tonight, the power was out, and aside from the fleeting thought "Oh, I still need to write a blog post," I was kind of glad.  We talked and played and then the power came back on in time to bathe the kids and put them to bed.

I know that I don't need to wait for the power to be off to turn everything off.

I kinda know.

I want to write about going to Mom's Night Out last night.  And I will write about it.  But I won't write about it today, at 9:53 at night, when I haven't processed it, when it's still a jumble and confusing and my eyes aren't open all the way.  It has to cook in my head a little more.

I want to write about the baby, about what a surprise she still is to me, about how she defaults to happy and that is not something I'm used to.  About how much I love her to my core.  About how she's hardly a baby anymore.

I'm tired.

But you knew that already.