Thursday, March 20, 2014

I got the blues

Last night was a bad night's sleep. The horrendous headache I had most of the day yesterday combined with it being Wednesday (late night at church for the kids) and Ladybug being especially fussy caused both my husband and I to stay up past midnight. At some point, Little Man woke up screaming for no apparent reason. After attempting to "top her off" at midnight to help settle her, she didn't start to stir until 4, but didn't wake to eat until 5. Unfortunately, the stirring occasionally in the 4 o'clock hour kept me from fully sleeping during that time and then feeding her and trying to get her to settle (which took awhile) and back pain kept me up until 6. She woke again (having escaped the swaddle) at 6:30. I'm tired. Really tired.

But I got up, put myself together, got Fuss to school on time (a feat lately) and got to Bible study. I was able to make it through Bible study with a happy expression, but once we were in the car and heading home, felt so incredibly drained it was like a huge wave just washed over me. Loneliness, sadness, exhaustion, frustration. I got the blues.

Today, Ladybug is 2 months old. I cannot believe the time has flown so fast.

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Snips and snails

I'm struggling. I'm feeling a lot of guilt and negativity.
I was always terrified of having a boy. I don't really know how to handle boys. I don't do sports (at all), I don't like being outside. I don't like noise and chaos and I'm not real good with dinosaurs and trucks and dirt. (Or Snips and snails and puppy dog tails.) I cried when they told me the baby in my belly was a boy, but I got over it fast when she referred to him as my "son." And then Little Man was born and I fell in love with him. We bonded and he was so snuggly and sweet. And he had my red hair, which just sort of added to the bond. And even as he grew, I was still thinking "maybe I can handle this boy thing".

But at this point, I'm so frustrated. I know he's 3, so that adds another dimension of difficulty. But he's LOUD and he's active and did I mention he's LOUD? And NOISY? I feel like I can't handle him most of the time. I feel like I'm constantly telling him to stop, sit down, be quiet, shush, settle down, be still, etc. I'm kind of afraid he's going to get ruined or something because I am constantly telling him to quit doing what seems to come so naturally because it's driving me crazy. I've read several books that talk about how boys need to be wild. They need to explore and be noisy and active, etc. My mom is constantly telling me that he needs to get out and be active more. (which just adds to my guilt of not taking him out more.) But he doesn't just want to be outside, he wants me to run around and be wild with him and that is just not me. At all. As in, I HATE being outside and getting sweaty and dirty. I'm the opposite of athletic. All that stuff makes me miserable. And wow, I sound selfish, don't I?

My husband is trying to help me find someone to watch him a few hours a week to give me a break. I keep thinking "no, I should be able to handle my own child," but then I think how awesome it would be to be able to send him away for a few hours and have someone else wear him out. And then I feel even more guilty, because I'm wanting to send my child away.

I'm feeling like a horrible mother and I'm wishing I knew how to fix it.