Day 23
I don't wanna go wake up the baby! He's just going to be all demanding and clingy and "Want mommy to pick me up?" and I'm just soooo tired.
Not nauseous. Thank the Lord. But super incredibly exhausted. Like, has the flu exhausted. My 30 minute nap helped some and I managed to clean the kitchen and make a chicken salad sandwich for my afternoon snack.
Now the energy is all used up again and I have to go deal with my toddler.
I feel so bad for him. I'm such a crappy mom at the moment. All our conversations consist of him asking me to do something with him and me saying, "Oh, sweetie, mommy's so tired. Can you do it yourself?" which never works, BTW. He's perfectly strong enough to lift the lid off his toybox. He just wants me to do it because then I'm involved. I don't want to be involved. I want to veg on the couch and concentrate on breathing, which for some reason is difficult all of a sudden; like the air is too thin and I can't get enough. It's terrible at night. If I'm not on my back I pant through my mouth because the pillow suffocates me. It's weird. With Kaden I drooled like a St. Bernard. With this one I'm panting. Eh.
A typical day:
8:30 am -- I wake up, groggy and feeling like a truck hit me at 80 mph
Doob is always lying in bed with me, having come in sometime that morning.
We go downstairs. He gets a video. I drink a glass of milk and make myself something I don't want to eat for breakfast.
I eat. Doob watches his video.
I fight with the Doob and get him fed, bathed and dressed. I bathe and dress myself.
We go to a morning activity: My Gym, Rosary group, Library, etc.
We come back from the morning activity. I'm freaking exhausted. Doob does not want to eat.
I make myself something I don't want to eat and eat it.
I go sit on the couch, feet up, eyes closed.
Doob demands a million and one things, makes a bunch of noise, throws toys on me from behind the couch, etc etc etc.
I answer about 3 out of every 7 queries and give him the minimum he requires.
1:00 I persuade him upstairs and feed him lunch. Usually cashew butter. He's supposed to have a vegetable too. I don't fight too strenuously. I make my tea.
Around 2:00 I really start to lose it. I drink my tea and watch Star Trek while Doob systematically destroys the house.
3:00 we go upstairs, I read him a book and give him some warm milk. I'm ready to die at this point.
Doob is not tired.
I am. I fall asleep in his bed, waking up every 7-10 minutes when he either falls on me, kicks the bed post, or gets up to play with his trians.
When I can no longer take it, I wack him with a pillow, point to the bed, and go lock myself in my bedroom.
Doob runs over and bangs on my door for 5 minutes, wailing for me to come out, he needs a light, he needs his door open, blah blah blah.
I tell him to do whatever he needs to do and go to sleep.
Finally he is quiet.
I wake up around 4 or 4:30, come downstairs and accomplish one thing. Usually it's to make myself something to eat which I'm not hungry for.
I eat either in front of the TV or in front of the computer. I speak on the phone with a friend or family member. I attempt to straighten up the house.
5:30 I wake up the Doo. He demands to be held for 1/2 an hour.
We cuddle on the couch while I try to keep him awake and wonder why, if he's THIS tired, he doesn't just go to sleep nicely at 3 pm when I start the naptime routine.
6 pm I start cooking dinner while trying to entertain the Doob's constant demands for attention, music, a video, to see what I'm doing, etc etc etc
7:15 Dan comes home. Dinner is never ready. The kitchen and house are a mess. I feel like a complete failure because of this.
7:30 Dinner. I am not hungry. It usually takes me an hour to choke down the food I've made.
Dan eats in 5 minutes, cleans the kitchen, feeds the Doob and puts on his workout clothes.
8:30 I am left with the Doob again.
He gets a video while I sit in front of the computer or clean the family room.
9:00 upstairs, warm milk, PJs, books.
9:20 Dan home from working out. Doob leaps of the bed and goes running to see him.
Thank freaking God.
I brush my teeth and get ready for bed.
9:35 Give Doob a good night hug. Go to bed.
Spend 1/2 hour to an hour listening to Doob get up and play with the doors, Dan stomp upstairs to scold him, Dan stomp downstairs to finish whatever he's doing. Repeat.
Sleep blessed sleep, sometimes before, sometimes soon after Dan comes to bed.
3:00 am I wake up for whatever reason. I may be hot. I may have to pee. Doob may have snuck into bed.
I pee. I eat some crackers. I drink some water. I put Doob back in his bed.
I spend an hour trying to get comfortable enough to go back to sleep.
8:30 am -- Morning again. I feel like a train wreck.
Not nauseous. Thank the Lord. But super incredibly exhausted. Like, has the flu exhausted. My 30 minute nap helped some and I managed to clean the kitchen and make a chicken salad sandwich for my afternoon snack.
Now the energy is all used up again and I have to go deal with my toddler.
I feel so bad for him. I'm such a crappy mom at the moment. All our conversations consist of him asking me to do something with him and me saying, "Oh, sweetie, mommy's so tired. Can you do it yourself?" which never works, BTW. He's perfectly strong enough to lift the lid off his toybox. He just wants me to do it because then I'm involved. I don't want to be involved. I want to veg on the couch and concentrate on breathing, which for some reason is difficult all of a sudden; like the air is too thin and I can't get enough. It's terrible at night. If I'm not on my back I pant through my mouth because the pillow suffocates me. It's weird. With Kaden I drooled like a St. Bernard. With this one I'm panting. Eh.
A typical day:
8:30 am -- I wake up, groggy and feeling like a truck hit me at 80 mph
Doob is always lying in bed with me, having come in sometime that morning.
We go downstairs. He gets a video. I drink a glass of milk and make myself something I don't want to eat for breakfast.
I eat. Doob watches his video.
I fight with the Doob and get him fed, bathed and dressed. I bathe and dress myself.
We go to a morning activity: My Gym, Rosary group, Library, etc.
We come back from the morning activity. I'm freaking exhausted. Doob does not want to eat.
I make myself something I don't want to eat and eat it.
I go sit on the couch, feet up, eyes closed.
Doob demands a million and one things, makes a bunch of noise, throws toys on me from behind the couch, etc etc etc.
I answer about 3 out of every 7 queries and give him the minimum he requires.
1:00 I persuade him upstairs and feed him lunch. Usually cashew butter. He's supposed to have a vegetable too. I don't fight too strenuously. I make my tea.
Around 2:00 I really start to lose it. I drink my tea and watch Star Trek while Doob systematically destroys the house.
3:00 we go upstairs, I read him a book and give him some warm milk. I'm ready to die at this point.
Doob is not tired.
I am. I fall asleep in his bed, waking up every 7-10 minutes when he either falls on me, kicks the bed post, or gets up to play with his trians.
When I can no longer take it, I wack him with a pillow, point to the bed, and go lock myself in my bedroom.
Doob runs over and bangs on my door for 5 minutes, wailing for me to come out, he needs a light, he needs his door open, blah blah blah.
I tell him to do whatever he needs to do and go to sleep.
Finally he is quiet.
I wake up around 4 or 4:30, come downstairs and accomplish one thing. Usually it's to make myself something to eat which I'm not hungry for.
I eat either in front of the TV or in front of the computer. I speak on the phone with a friend or family member. I attempt to straighten up the house.
5:30 I wake up the Doo. He demands to be held for 1/2 an hour.
We cuddle on the couch while I try to keep him awake and wonder why, if he's THIS tired, he doesn't just go to sleep nicely at 3 pm when I start the naptime routine.
6 pm I start cooking dinner while trying to entertain the Doob's constant demands for attention, music, a video, to see what I'm doing, etc etc etc
7:15 Dan comes home. Dinner is never ready. The kitchen and house are a mess. I feel like a complete failure because of this.
7:30 Dinner. I am not hungry. It usually takes me an hour to choke down the food I've made.
Dan eats in 5 minutes, cleans the kitchen, feeds the Doob and puts on his workout clothes.
8:30 I am left with the Doob again.
He gets a video while I sit in front of the computer or clean the family room.
9:00 upstairs, warm milk, PJs, books.
9:20 Dan home from working out. Doob leaps of the bed and goes running to see him.
Thank freaking God.
I brush my teeth and get ready for bed.
9:35 Give Doob a good night hug. Go to bed.
Spend 1/2 hour to an hour listening to Doob get up and play with the doors, Dan stomp upstairs to scold him, Dan stomp downstairs to finish whatever he's doing. Repeat.
Sleep blessed sleep, sometimes before, sometimes soon after Dan comes to bed.
3:00 am I wake up for whatever reason. I may be hot. I may have to pee. Doob may have snuck into bed.
I pee. I eat some crackers. I drink some water. I put Doob back in his bed.
I spend an hour trying to get comfortable enough to go back to sleep.
8:30 am -- Morning again. I feel like a train wreck.