Who ever started saying this?
And why are we okay with this?
I agree, it does always get worst before it gets better.
But at what point does it get better.
And if this was true, it wouldn't ever get better, it would only get worst.
This seems like the story of my life.
Each stressfull week that passes I take of breath of releif.
Only until I look at next week agenda.
It keeps getting more and more difficult to keep up with this fast pace lifestyle that I conciously (and nievely) chose for myself and my family.
Oh well. you live and you learn, right?
Thankfully summer is near.
{blurry Owyn being blown by the fan, looking real sad :( }
Last week Owyn became ill for the first time in the 9 months he's been breathing on this earth.
My poor little baby had a fever for 3 days not feeling well.
After he finally broke his fever, he broke out in a rash. It broke my heart.
(Too much breaking going on around here!)
It was a very nasty bright red rash that looks very painful. Of course I automatically started to think the worst, like chikenpox and blamed myself for having poor hygiene and being the compete opposite of a germaphobe (correct term is actually misophobe).
I turns out that he's picked the viral infection called Roseola. Harmless, common, blah blah blah.
I just want it to go away.
