Frustrated.

What a word.  Frustrated is how I feel as of late, and for lots of reasons.  At the top of the list right now is my inability to physically give Michael everything he needs.  Michael's had a weird week or so.  He's naps have been short. He's decided that he is going to test the limits on what he can and cannot do, test how far he can push Dennis and I before we actually punish him.  He's eating habits have changed drastically, and I'm frustrated.  Don't get me wrong, my son is still possibly the most well-behaved 14 month-old I have ever known, but I think I can say he really hasn't been himself as of late.  I find myself wondering if it's because I am not capable of all that I was before I was the size of the titanic.  I do my best to get down and play with him, pick him up when he asks to be, and I still somehow manage to rock him to sleep although I no longer have a lap.  I feel guilty, I do.  So, this is me overanalyzing what some would say are the normal things any toddler goes through at his age, but I do feel guilty.  I look forward to having and meeting our little William, and I look forward to rolling around with my Michael.