Apparently, I'm a total asshole. When I switched my template over (does everyone like the new design? I realized that I wasn't writing as much on my blog because I didn't like the way it looked), I enabled the "Comment Moderator" button. It is a really small little button that tells the blog to store all comments until the "Comment Moderator" (a.k.a. me) published the comments. All weekend I was getting crap from friends that had tried to comment, only to be told that their comment had to be approved by the "Comment Moderator" (I like to put it in quotations because it makes me sound like a superhero. Dadadaduhduh, "I am the Comment Moderator. Fear me, oh, humble commenters. You must be approved!!!!".)
OK, clearly that part isn't serious. I love reading the comments, though. Evne my Mom likes to tell me when people have commented on here, as in: "Wasn't that nice of XXX to say that she supports you?" or, "It sounds like XXX doesn't have a very high opinion of you." She loves the commenting feature even more than I do. Not only does she get to read my personal thoughts, which I may or may not have shared with her before publication, but she gets to read what people think about the thoughts. Then she gets to think about them and we are all thinking together in one happy cyper community.
I'm itching at the seams to go and pick Z up from the new daycare lady. Something doesn't seem right. Last night was the first night that Zac and I had spent in our new apartment. The air conditioner was still broken (the maintenance folk at the apartment complex tried to tell me that they fixed it last week. HA!! I know the difference between "heat rising" and "the bloody air conditioner is making noise, but not cooling a damn thing and I'm laying on my bed sweating and praying that it drops below 70 degrees at night") so I spent a rather uncomfortable evening wondering where I might have packed my eye glasses and questioning the sanity of moving one lightbulb from room to room (yes, I only have one lightbulb right now. It follows me wherever I go. I plan on getting some more this evening.) This morning I dropped him off at the home daycare and had a bad feeling about the whole thing. I even went and checked on him at lunch, which I've never done before. Granted, I've never lived less than 6 miles away from work before either.
It's funny how I start to take advantage of Zac being in my life. I get annoyed when he drools on me constantly or whines for my attention. He even crawls after me when I leave the room and will only be perfectly content when I'm holding him. Separation anxiety can test even the most saintly of mother, which I'm not. Then I have days like today, where I would move the Earth to be with him and keep him safe. I think about what it would be like if he weren't in my life anymore and it causes a jittery, panicked feeling to race throughout my whole body.