Max’s most favorite teddy bear in the world, CheesePeas, has been missing for close to a month now. I’ve looked *everywhere* but can’t find it. He’s upset and I have some pretty serious mommy-guilt over this. There aren’t that many places it could be– he has only ever left the house a few times with bear in hand!

It’s not like I can just buy him a new one; the bear’s got almost five years of snuggle-wear-and-tear that is irreplacable. Sigh.

Despite the fact that I was in bed at 11pm, I’ve now been up for over an hour feeling anxious, tossing, turning and worrying. Over what? Everything, nothing and all points in between.

I thought writing about it and getting some of it out of my head might help but I’m finding even that is too much. Maybe because I sit down with the computer and remember all of the millions of things that need caught up on, including dozens of unanswered emails. Too much, too much. I’m behind in –everything– and hate this feeling that I’m never going to catch up and just have time to BE.

I bitch and moan too much. I want to let it all go but don’t quite know how to actually do that.