another bedtime has been achieved, Momma has another anxiety attack, and needs to stop singing patriotic songs from the era of the Civil War. Even though they're sad and slow and perfect for lullabies. They make her cry, and that's not good when she's putting the baby to bed.

Curling up in bed now with tea and Blue Collar Comedy. Maybe I'll read during the commercials. Maybe I'll try to get some sleep myself. Tomorrow will be brighter, tomorrow the sun will shine just a little bit more in a bluer sky. That's what I tell myself. Someday it'll come true.