Saturday, July 23, 2011

the blah's

As of yesterday I have a husband who's getting the bad cold the kid has and the kid has an ear infection, again, along with a still stuffy nose and a cough. For those interested in keeping count this is ear infection number 4. He'll be 9 months next week. That's a lot of ear infections.
Gregory has also decided that his new wake up time is 7am. It used to be 8 or 8:30. I was spoiled. This whole weeks he's been up at 7. Since Jason is getting sick, I've been getting up at night the last two nights to do the 3am feeding. This is a challenge for a couple of reasons: A) Jason's been doing night feedings for pretty much the entire time Gregory's been home (so I could get the sleep I needed to heal and then because the medication I take at night makes it hard for me to get up) so I'm not used to doing things in the dark, which I actually find difficult - hyperventilating type of difficult, and B) as previously mentioned, some of the meds I take make it hard for me to get up. Some make me groggy and feel confused and foggy, and some make me really light headed if I get up too soon after I've taken them so getting out of bed means feeling like I am going to pass out: cold sweats, seeing spots, tunnel vision, nausea... its really quite fun. Not.
Anyway, so I've managed to get out of bed and not pass out - although last night it was thisclose, and feed Gregory. His night feedings consist of a quick diaper change, a bottle and his "put me back in the crib so I can sleep" act. The whole thing takes maybe 15 minutes. But it also means I'm short on sleep since hello, going back to sleep is almost impossible for me. Oh yeah, and I haven't been taking anything to help me sleep like I normally do since then I really would be totally out of it. And with Jason sick I'm SOL.
So last night, around 3:30am after getting back to bed, I was trying to think of a way to describe exactly how I was feeling. Lots of moms get up to feed their babies in the middle of the night. I can't say for sure, but I'd assume (I've read somewhere before to never assume so I could be so very wrong here- it's rare, but it has happened before) that it's the norm in most households (not ours). I wasn't frustrated or mad or irritated... So I came up with this slightly misconstrued analogy and I hope it doesn't confuse you even more than I already have: Its like I'm an only child and I have one crazy aunt (in reality I have like four crazy aunts, KIDDING!!). This aunt never married, had no children and is 95. Of course I love the crazy aunt because she's my only aunt and my family. I want to help her and take care of her so I do, but sometimes it makes me want to rip my hair out. Even though she is the only person I'm really "responsible" for and she really isn't THAT difficult to help out, thinking about visiting her or cleaning her house or doing her laundry or trying to just visit and entertain her to help her days pass more quickly makes me feel like hyperventilating. Like I'm caught in some sort of tidal wave I can't get out of even though again, ITS NOT THAT BAD.
I know that sounds weird but its the best way I can describe how I feel. Gregory is not a difficult baby. When he's not sick (and most of the time even when he is) he goes to sleep easily, takes naps well and is generally happy. He just needs someone to visit with for some entertainment and interaction, make sure he's got food and a nap and to clean up after him. But some days that makes my skin crawl. And I don't know why. I take that back, I do know why but I still have moments of denial.
So this morning I got up at 7, attempted to feed the kid a bottle then changed him, fed the dog, fed the cat, let the animals outside, let the animals back inside, tried to feed Gregory some bananas and cheerios so I could give him his antibiotic and more Advil for ear pain (all of the above feeding attempts failed by the way), put the cat in the "safe room" (he's safe from me and my stuff is safe from him), took a shower while trying to talk to Gregory in a fun voice so he'd hang in there long enough for me to wash my hair, got dressed, came back downstairs to try to feed him again (big giant fail) and then put him down for a nap since he's was rubbing his eyes and doing huge yawns.
Now he's upstairs doing the new fun thing he's discovered which is kicking the sh*t out of the side of his crib. He spins 90 degrees, picks up both feet and slams them as hard as he can on the side over and over. I'm convinced he's going to break the thing because it seriously sounds like an adult attempting to break off the side and kicking it in is the only way they can do so. I have no idea how to get him to stop. He does that for about 10 minutes then falls asleep (by the way, this only happens at nap time). As I've been typing this he's done just that. The slamming has stopped and the sleeping has commenced.
I have a husband asleep, a kid asleep and all I want to do is cry because Jason is really sick so I know that things aren't going to get better any time soon. Plus, we have about 17,000 (OK maybe 8) packages in our front entry. All things that need assembly. It seriously looks like we are having another child because there is so much crap just sitting there in boxes. I use the term crap lightly because its actually cool stuff that I just don't want to deal with at the moment.
I'm feeling overwhelmed and I recognize in myself that today is not a good day for me to try to write. Neither was yesterday. I'm on little sleep and I'm starting to feel slightly like I'm drowning.
People around me would probably go "huh? but you had like the whole day off yesterday!" which is technically kind of true, yet it was not a relaxing day by any means. There were errands, doctor appointments, more appointments and tons of driving. Plus, I only got about 4 hours of sleep the night before. This is just another sign that I'm not there yet; nothing horrible is happening, Jason is home, which means that I will have some help with Gregory when they both wake up in a little bit, but the alarm bells in my head are going off. Good old fight or flight. The alarm is somewhere between a 3 alarm fire and a "holy crap you're about to die" and the alarm is telling me to GO FAR AWAY and RUN don't walk. I'm not a big fighter, I'm much more likely to attempt to flee.
But instead I'm going to sit on the couch and try to read a new book to distract myself. I'm going to get ready to take my dog to a class later today (a break!!) and try to turn those alarm bells off or at least turn the volume down because there is no fire and I'm not about to die - at least not that I know of. I'll update you later on if I am successful at shutting down the internal alarm system and if I'm still alive and kicking.

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