Last night I was struck with fear and I can’t shake it.

In approximately five and a half months I’ll have a newborn and a three-year-old and I live very far away from my mother and my mother-in-law. Husband works ridiculous hours. I’ll pretty much be on my own … I think. 

I realized the seriousness of my situation when it dawned on me that I’ll be VERY sleep-deprived and my first child refuses to nap. Ever. Which means I might … what? Lose my mind? Back our car into the neighbor’s house? Put a stick of butter in the silverware drawer?

(I have to give credit to my friend Anna for this concept. She actually did this after her daughter was born. Except I’m pretty sure that the butter was NOT in the wrapper.)
This realization makes me want to pack our stuff up and go running back to Louisiana. Nevermind the fact that we have a mortgage, Husband’s company doesn’t have a location in Louisiana and we would have no place to live. I’m not thinking rationally, you know.
It’s time for me to build my village.

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