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Dear Portia,

I said something mean to you today, something a mother of a far higher caliber would not have said. We were winding down for the day. You were already in your sleepwear. I was already thinking of the list of things I had to finish crossing off after you fell asleep. You had the bad case of the giddies, and was constantly rolling around the bed, touching wires, disarranging things I just fixed a while ago, biting me and whining endlessly because sleep was getting to you and you didn't want your day to end just yet.

Then I semi-shouted, semi-sighed in an annoyed tone, 'Poj! Makawala jud ka'g pasensya!'. I'd regretted it as soon as it came out of my mouth and regretted it even more when I saw your face wither, your mouth quiver, your eyes shift down. Shortly afterwards, you just giggled it off and continued to play with me. You really are a trooper.

If I could apologize a million times, I would. It was completely my fault and I offer no excuse except that it was the fatigue talking. I've had no sleep for days now, chasing after deadlines by night and then chasing after you by myself by day. Don't get me wrong. I love playing with you, love being with you. It's just that my mind goes haywire and sometimes, I really just need rest and time for myself. I'd trade all the Skittles in this world, part of my soul even, at this point for some undisturbed sleep.

And if you're wondering where I found the time to write this, I've traded in my evening bath time for some blogging therapy. Yes, that's me you're smelling even in your sleep. I'm sorry. A thousand times, I'm sorry.

Guilty,
Mom