A Milking Cow

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This is gonna be quick because I am at work and trying to look like I am actually accomplishing very important tasks.  Of which, I really do have to accomplish at some time today.  I love my job Squirt.  I really do and I feel so lucky that I get to do it every day. Your Dad feels the same way about his work and I know how rare that is, to love your job.  I think it defines success, doing something you love every day, regardless of how much money it brings you.  I am making a third of what I made acting but I am a thousand times happier.  I never miss it.  I celebrate being away from it.  I wasn’t cut out for the ruthless self-marketing and networking that it required.  I am still amazed I had as much success as I did, which was a hundred times more than most.  I really wish two things for you; that you love what you do for a living and that you never want to be an actor.  That’s all.  Or a smoker.  Both are kind of gross.

Moving on-

You have been a peach this whole week.  Pun totally intended.  I think we have turned a corner, you and I, the last two days.  I feel awesome. No nausea, I have an actual appetite, and some energy.

Here you are:

and here I am:

I look slightly miserable because I had just gotten out of the shower and your Papa was adamant that we shoot the photo outside in the brisk cold air.  But can you see you poking out?  It’s cute.  I love that I can see you now.  I have been reading birthing books like a madwoman and my mantras throughout the days are; relax, take it easy, easy does it, what’s the big deal…which is surprisingly easy for me to do because as your Aunt Vanessa so brilliantly described it, my emotional life somewhat resembles that of a milking cow.

Things don’t bother me or excite me as much.  Which for me, is a really, really, really, good thing.

I feel super chill and I like it.

Bye for now,



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