I am all about the personal space. I hate it when I feel someone in a line is crowding me – I have been known to make myself as big as possible by standing with my feet wide apart, and my swinging my bag backward swiftly, so anyone too close will get a whack. I used that trick on the New York subway with my first kate spade handbag, as it was square and had really good corners for swatting off space crowders.

Even in my personal life, I like my space. I am not a cuddly sleeper. Well, of course I’m not anymore, now that I sleep alone. But when I was married, I didn’t enjoy the all-night spooning that the EX seemed to want to do all the time. I like a few minutes of cuddle time, and then I want to sleep unencumbered. That doesn’t mean I don’t like to be hugged or touched.

Lately though, Betsy has taken to hurling herself at me, and wanting to sit with just about every inch of her pressed up against some part of me. And I want to be accommodating to this, I really do. But on days like today, when she woke me up at 5:30 and has been talking nonstop since then, and I have PMS to be perfectly candid, and I’ve had to pick up the same damn toys over and over and over again, I just don’t want to cuddle.

I am trying to do it anyway, because I don’t want her to feel like I’m rejecting her. And I know that one day she won’t want to cuddle anymore, and I’ll be missing these days. Don’t get me wrong, we do cuddle plenty and it’s perfectly wonderful and heart warming. Sometimes, though, it’s just too much. And I feel horribly guilty for not being able to just drop my own issues and give her what she clearly wants in those moments.