Yargh. Separation anxiety -- Julia's doing that too, and it's the big reason why I have NOT taken her to gym daycare yet and just want to manage to get there at night on my own. It's bad enough at church nursery or even just leaving the room to get her shoes... if she's in that kind of a mood she wails and breaks out with "Mami! Mami! Mami!"

No advice -- just sympathy.

It's not as violent as when she was first born, but when I hear the sound of my kid crying out for me, my milk lets down, and I feel enraged. Like... "Ok! Who is messing with my kid?! I'm going to kill!" Logically I can think, "Oh, she just fell over" or "Oh, she just is mad she can't open that" or similar. I can see with my own eyes that she's fine. Yet my gut reacts with a violence I'm still not quite used to.

Just got back into the house -- bloody hot out there. But I got 4 lawn trash bags done and I'm taking a break before I scrub down the house on the inside. No more outdoor chores for me today. It's still mornign and feels like 95 deg!

Today is produce delivery, so I want to cook ahead for the week as well.

Dad asked me yesterday if I was losing weight. I said "Yep" and then he went beserk trying to figure out how much. Pestering me and when I refused to divulge that information he tried to get Paul to tell him but Paul doesn't know.

I have no idea why Dad gets obsessed this way but there you go. He's my one relative who turns into the Diet Police. I'm sure everyone else who is trying to lose weight and get fitter has that one relative somewhere in the family tree. Annoying.