Work is busy for all kinds of stupid and boring reasons. Like – no human being could possibly accomplish everything that I am supposed to get done in a week. There is something very freeing about realizing that you can’t finish it and giving yourself permission not to.
Patrick’s Gran is ill and he and the baby are going to visit her this weekend. I cannot go because {see first bullet point above.} I don’t know how well I will fare. Obviously I have never been apart from the schmunkin for longer than a workday, and that even makes me cry sometimes.
I have been pumping every two hours – say it with me people, EVERY TWO DAMN HOURS, and yes, that is while {see first bullet point above.} After all of this pumping, he has enough milk to take on this trip to allow him to eat half the time. In order that he not scream the house down (because he would not starve even if we cut his meals in half – I mean, have you SEEN my kid lately?), he will be doing formula the other half of the time. We tried the formula yesterday – – – and he slept FOREVA last night. The implications. They dazzle. Could I? Could I possibly? Could sleep be in my future if I gave up and just fed the damn kid formula already?? Then I remembered that we have fifteen dollas in the checking account, and was like – OK free breastmilk it is, and I guess I’ll sleep when I’m – never.
I wish I could say that I am going to have a fun, throwback-to-my-single-non-mom days weekend while the boys are in Indiana, but I have to freaking work this Saturday. From 6:30 am to 4:00 pm. So much for Sex and the City and sleeping in.
For the first time a couple of days ago, I looked from my caterwauling boy to my freshly gnawed Chacos (gnawed by the dog, not the boy) to the drifts of cat hair in the sticky corners of my unwashed floors, to the laundry and the dishes and goddamm breastpump, and cried to the heavens that I am Weary of My Burdens, Oh Lord. I miss clean floors and non-chewed shoes, or (to be truer to my personal history), the complete lack of shoes and floors to put them on and the freedom of being able to carry everything I own in a backpack on my back. I don’t want to feed my baby with my body anymore. I don’t want to wake up with him at night anymore. I don’t want to feel guilty about not walking my dog anymore. I don’t want my cat to crawl on my lap looking for snuggles, I don’t want to make thrifty dinners out of the cheap cans I pulled out of the back of the pantry, I don’t want to pay my bills. Don’t don’t don’t. But after this petulant few moments, Jack behaved like a dream the rest of the day. And who needs nice shoes anyway? And eating out is overrated. And whatever else I have to tell myself to get through those weary moments until I feel happy again.
Some mornings I cry because I am so tired, and I don’t know how I’m going to make it through the whole work week without a chance for a nap. I know I will, but I don’t want to have to.
I am feeling a little down. Can you tell? My birth month is not being kind to me. The first day was excellent, I’ll give it that, but since then – not so much. Here’s hoping next week starts an upward trend.
I must end on a positive note. And that note is – I am down to 152 pounds. I’ve steadily lost a pound a week since the beginning of August. I look FOXEH, if I do say so myself! I’ve been eating heartily, but healthily. I’ve been working out. I’ve squeezed in a jog or two on weekends, and walk around the building at work when I can’t get to the gym on my lunch. I have been working really hard, and it is paying off, and I hereby pat my steadily more slender self on the back.
You are a terrific mom, you look FANTASTIC, both the puppy and cat LOVE their mom, your work doesn\’t deserve you but they are lucky LUCKY to have you, as is your boy whom you love and adore and feed and care for and because of all you sacrifice he will grow up knowing that his mom has his back and he will become a strong smart man that any woman is lucky to have!!!
If you lived near me I\’d come over on Sunday and we\’d have a cleaning party with wine and Sex/City DVD\’s playing in the background…although the cleaning would quickly be moved to the backshelf while we ordered pizza and laughed at just how slutty Samantha really was on that show and how the producers put Carrie in some wacky WACKY outfits.
You are SUPER CAREER MOM!!! I salute you 🙂
oh honey, i sympathize with you. and i mean that from the very, teeny, tiny bottom, waay in the back corner of my pea pickin\’ heart. i pumped for both girls – for alana i pumped an entire year! i didn\’t want to, but felt guilty not doing it. and, of course, the $$ saved was a huge incentive. you can do this. it\’s tough. and it sucks. but, as my mom would say, "you don\’t have any other choice." sure, you could toss the kid and husband aside and sew some wild oats, but do you really want to? i wish i could tell you that you\’ll find sleepy bliss again soon, but i can\’t. i gave birth nearly 6 yrs ago and still haven\’t had a great night\’s sleep. *but*, your body adjusts. you learn to live off of less. i think i just summed up motherhood in that last sentence.
i was going to come here with some kind of bullshit excuse of why I haven\’t been around to visit you lately because i\’ve been too busy….but i can see that you will have no sympathy since you are busier than a one-armed paper hanger.
if i lived near you, i would volunteer to baby sit while you went out or stayed in to take a nap. i would wash your dishes and do your laundry and pet your cat. everything but the whole pumping thing.
but since i live in NJ and you live in NC the next best thing i can do is to let you know that you have my admiration and that i am rooting for you!!