My day

The baby wakes up at 6:30.  Happy and cute baby, yes, but way too early.

I try to nurse him back to sleep for a while to no avail.  I lay in bed with my eyes closed.  I am already exhausted and haven't even gotten up yet.

It is day two of Kevin's three days of being out of town.  The first day there is a little bit of fun being alone.  Watching what I want, stretching out in bed.  But by day two I am tired and know that there are still two full days with just me and the baby.

I get up and the baby is off and fussing.  He cries on and off for seemingly no reason and I can feel myself get annoyed, but carry him around and try to make him happy.  We eventually go to a story time which he enjoys even though another little boy keeps taking all the toys Finn is playing with and then throwing them at him.  The boys mother does nothing, I glare at him ineffectually.

We go home.  It is the day my house gets cleaned which is my very favorite day of every two weeks.  But today when she leaves the house...just isn't clean.  She's been coming later and leaving earlier and doing a worse and worse job.  Every time she leaves I think I should a) talk to her and explain my upset/concerns or b) fire her and find someone new.  But I do neither of these things because I am a) horrible at confrontation and b) the thought of trying to find someone knew fills me with exhaustion.

I get the baby down for his nap.  I know that later in the day I have to coordinate a pick up from our house of one of Kevin's work instruments.  He was very careful to tell the people not to come before 2:00, after naptime is over.  They come at 1:06.  The baby wakes up.  The baby cries.  I help them find the intrument while thinking that I hate them.

The baby continues to cry.  I manage to get him back to sleep for a while but he wakes up fussy.

My mom is supposed to come over and help me tonight.  Bring dinner, watch the baby while I shower, spend the night.  She calls to tell me she can't come because she has the stomach flu.  I am especially glad to hear that since she was over the day before yesterday playing with me and Finn.

I am also not feeling well.  I want to lay motionless on the couch under a blanket.  Instead I chase a fussy baby.

It is late and the day is almost over.  One of the dogs gets out of the yard.  I put Finn in the car and we drive around in the freezing cold night looking for her.  I have mixed feeling about wanting to find her, but we eventually do.

I try to shower.  Finn wants to get in the shower but then screams until I pick him up (at this point it is well past his bed time).  I wash one handed while holding a slippery baby.

We get out and I go to put on my pajamas.  Finn is mercifully quiet for a minute and I relax, forgetting the cardinal mom rule that quiet is almost always a bad thing.  I go back into the bath room and Finn smiles at me.  At his feet are two golfball sized pieces of poo.

We are finally ready for bed.  Hopefully Finn will sleep.  I will most likely lay next to him in the dark and eat cupcakes.  And then tomorrow I will do it all again.

I'm a bad hostess...and possibly friend...and mom...join me in a pity party

I am having a hard day.

Well..some of the day was nice...but the evening is not going so great and when I get in the dark cloud it seems to color everything around it, including the immediate past and future, and so a bad day is born.

Finn is not sleeping.  And I know that's the actual problem.  I am on four nights with very little sleep with a very fussy and teething baby.  I know my emotions are really caused by fatigue, but it's hard to seperate out the tiredness from the "my life is out of control...I can't handle this..." even if the root of the problem is really the not sleeping and not my actual life.

But right now I have a tired and fussy baby.  And we're out of pain killers for him.  And he just pooped everywhere.  And I am covered in baby poop and baby food.  And I just want to feel like a person, and not just a mom.  And get some sleep, and have a clean house.

And I feel especially bad that Emily is here in the midst of molar-gate, because I feel like it's making me a much more tired and cranky hostess.  Hopefully she is still having some fun.

And we did go see the movie "Valentine's Day" with my totally age-inappropriate boyfriend, Taylor Lautner.

Mmmm...he's pretty.

So, really, the day wasn't all bad.  And maybe we'll sleep tonight.

In which we go to the gym and my child becomes a banshee

I have a dream.

In it, I can once again belong to the Y.  I loved the Y, once upon a time (also known as before I had a child).  I used to go all the time.  Yoga, pilates, aerobics..I loved the classes.  And I knew they had a nursery that you could start taking the baby to when he/she was 6 weeks old. 

"Great!" pregnant (and stupid) me thought, "once the baby is six weeks, I will head back to the gym and he can go to the nursery...he'll be happy and I'll get to work out."

Oh poor, stupid, pregnant me. 

Of course, then the baby was born and I barely left my house for three months.  And the thought of leaving my baby with strangers?  Not so much.  So I bid a sad farwell to the gym.

But now the little one is over a year and I thought it was time to try again.  So today I went back with a seven day guest pass and tried dropping Finn in the nursery.  From the second I handed him off he started to scream.  I can't entirely blame him.  He and I have been apart for probably under 20 hours his entire life.  And then he was with his father or grandmother.  But here I just had to hand him to someone and walk away.

I gave it 15 minutes, but when he was still crying I went and got him.  I'm going to try everyday this week and see if he gets to like it anymore.  If not, the dream of gym time will have to wait until he's a little older.

This will not be me anytime soon, it appears....

Silver lining? Meet cloud.

Want to play a fun new game with me?

Silver lining: The baby lay down and took a very nice nap this morning from 9:45 to 10:30.
Cloud: That was the only nap he was willing to take.  Allowing for a whole lot of cranky baby time.

Silver lining:  My eye is hurting slightly less than it was earlier today.

Cloud:  It was hurting because the contact I had in ripped in half in my eye.  Then the baby and I had to shlep to the eye doctor so he could remove the remaining half a lens.

Silver lining:  I have three fewer cavities than I had before.

Cloud:  Yes, that's because I got them filled today.  A process that took so much numbing that now, four hours later half my face is still numb.

Silver lining: Yes, my husband is away, but that does mean I can cook what I want for dinner and kick back and relax.

Cloud:  I can't eat, lest I chew my tongue.  Plus, see earlier re: fussy, sleep deprived baby.

Silver lining:  I have a mainly sweet baby who I get to stay home with, a husband I love and am pretty damn lucky.

Cloud:  Fine, I guess, you win.  It was close, though.  And I'm only giving in because the baby in finally asleep and you are starting to get feeling back in your lips.

Winner:  Silver lining.  But just barely.

This is why I don't blog every day...and yet, I am

Since I have committed, I shall continue, although today is not a day I would normally blog.

I have no funniness or pithiness.

My husband is out of town at least three days a week.  He hasn't been a ton of help when he is in town.  The baby isn't sleeping.  He is, however, doing an inordinate amount or fussing and crying.

I am so exhausted I feel like there should be another word for it.

But it doesn't matter.  I can't sleep or relax or put my feet up.   I just have to trudge on and on and on.  Which right now seems completely impossible, but I am fairly sure I will manage it all the same.

Defintely one of those "being a stay at home mom is hard!" days.

And you thought I was cranky before.  Who knew I was shielding you from my dark side.

Mama said there’d be days (or two…or five…or seven…) like this

Finn has been a terror lately.

And that’s saying something, because he is something of a hellion to begin with (and I say that with love).

Now he’s up at least once an hour all night, sometimes crying and screaming, taking maybe two 20 minute naps a day and generally being fussy and clingy all day.

Why? Why? Why?

Babies need to come with little display panels. It could be like on The Sims where you could tell they were hungry or bored or needed to pee. It would make life a lot simpler.

I am hoping this is teething or demon possession and not just his personality. I am into a week of almost no sleep and it is not making me a particularly happy or functioning woman.

Right now I just quietly chant “it’s a phase, it’s a phase” over and over. I’m too tired to really do much to try and change anything, so I am going for the “this will resolve itself with time” method.

We shall see if I’m right.

A year in review

My baby is one, which seems unreal. This year has been both the longest and the quickest of my life. I am an entirely different person than I was a year ago. Finn is my first priority, and he affects everything I do from the big to the small and is now the person I spend about 95% of every day focused on.

This year has had the highest highs and the lowest lows. I was completely unprepared for how intense it was going to be.

On the up up upside, I adore my son. I didn’t know that it was possible to love someone this much. I put him before myself every time and it’s usually pretty easy to do. He has a sweet spirit, loves to dance, and has an amazing laugh. It is incredible watching him become this little person. I know I am blessed to be able to stay home with him and I love the intimacy of our relationship.

But there has been a dark side of becoming a mother for me that I did not expect and am still really struggling with. There are times where I don’t think I can get through another minute and at the same time I can see the days and nights and days and nights of taking care of him stretching out endlessly in front of me. Times where I feel like a husk of a person, that I have been crushed, worn down to a powder by his endless endless needs.

And although these times have gotten fewer and farther between as he has gotten older, they have also gotten more difficult because I feel like at this point I should have it down and shouldn’t still be struggling. And it is hard because I often feel so alone. I don’t really hear other moms talking about their difficulties and it’s hard to say “do you ever just hate being a mother” and while my husband tries, I really don’t feel like this is a burden we share, I feel like it’s one I carry alone.

I hate to complain too much, except jokingly, because I feel like something bad will happen and it will be my fault because I didn’t appreciate how good I had it.

So this is me warding off the evil eye. I love my son and would not trade having him for anything, I just wish he came with a little more sleep and the ability to use the bathroom without his company.

I'm not always this crabby

So this blog, I feel, is getting off on a cranky note.

And I'm not always cranky, really. Okay, I sort of am, but I try not to be.

In my defense, since I apparently feel I need one, my son has been sick for almost three weeks. I am not sleeping at all. The dog keeps escaping from the yard. And this was all capped off with my husband taking a weekend trip to Vegas, leaving me alone with the baby for three days.

So a tiny bit of crankiness is justified, no?

I know...silver lining...look on the bright side..let your smile be your umbrella...laugh and the world laughs with you...

Eh...bite me. The baby cries, the dogs whine, I do endless loads of laundry and I am so so so tired it makes me dizzy. My "me time" consists of the occasional 45 minute nap the baby takes which involve me walking him to sleep and then laying quietly next to him while he nurses.

Yes, yes, I have made my baby co-dependant bed and now I must lie in it with him. And I generally don't mind. But this weekend is pushing it.

I love my husband, I do and he is a great father. The baby adores him.

But sometimes I resent him so much it makes me want to throw thing. Preferably at his head.

I know he works out of the house and I don't. And I am lucky that I get to stay home. But I feel like I have a very demanding job with a tyrannical boss and it just never ever ends. I would like to read a book, go out of town, see a movie. Hell, I would just like one good nights sleep. The longest stretch I have had since the baby was born is five hours. And that happened exactly once.

I just feel like I have been swallowed up by the baby. Who I totally and completely adore, I just miss having something that is just mine.

Okay. Cranky rant over, for now. I make no promises about tomorrow, though.

Still sick, but with sewing success (ish)

We are now two weeks into the sickness that will not end.

Not to overshare (but the idea of personal information or that someone might not want to hear about bodily functions seems to have left me now that I'm a mother...) but the little one is still pooping around eight times a day. And not sleeping at all. How fondly I remember the days of constipation. And sleep. How I miss it. I've gone thirteen nights where I am lucky to get 45 minutes in a row. And the baby is not happy and is very sleepy as well.

No fun.

Off to the doctor tomorrow and hopefully he will have something helpful to add.

In the world of sewing, I am gaining something of a (small) foothold.

I managed to complete the two projects for the online sew-along I am organizing for last week, cloth wipes (velour on one side and flannel on the other, I am sure Finn with enjoy them):

And an embelilished cloth diaper to use as a burp cloth:

Not perfect, but I am very proud of me. On to week two.

Sickness and sewing

My frustration level? It's high, people.

We have had our first real bout of the baby being sick.

I know, I know, we're very lucky to have made it nine months before this happened.

Last Wednesday night he had a fever of almost 105 at four in the morning. We ran to the emergency room and were told it was a virus. A week later, here we are. No more fever (yay!) but still covered in a rash, not sleeping, cranky, and OH!! the diarrhea.

I never knew my life could be quite so filled with poop. Glamorous, I tell you.

My good mommy patience has run out (although I think it lasted a long time). I have left the house once in a week and it was for a very quick "we're out of food, oh please don't have a blow out at the grocery store" trip. The baby cries...and cries...and, if I dare leave his line of sight...screams.

Bleh bleh bleh.

Also testing my patience is my new hobby I have so gleefully taken up - sewing. My love of Etsy (and subsequent money spending) led me to think perhaps I could start sewing things myself. My sister kindly donated her sewing machine and now here we are. Only, I totally and completely suck. It's like there is some sewing gene I just don't have.

Okay, I've only given it about 30 minutes over three days (not a lot of free time for a mommy here) but all I am trying to make are some cloth wipes. Should be simple...but not so much.

But I've bought so fabric, so I am determined to continue on, at least until it's used up.

Perhaps tomorrow will be less bleh. Here's hoping.