Tides.

You know what I have really had enough of?
Our parenting style differences.
When she cries, I hold her.
Maybe that's why she almost NEVER comes to you for comfort.
You stare at her. She's down stairs crying for 10min with you.
Staring OBVIOUSLY isn't solving ANYTHING.
"She Wants you" and "She wants Mamma" are true. In a way.
YOU can comfort her. Nutritionally, she doesn't need boobie anymore. It's primarily a comfort thing.
It's like you don't understand how to comfort her.
Like when she starts to wake up- ex:
Me: *rock/pat the baby*
You: *let arm be still as possible, and look at her and say Hi*
Then I take the baby, rock her to sleep, and you are astonished she's sleeping again. She didn't have a nap. It's 8:30.
What did you expect?
It breaks my heart to BF her in public. Because of the way YOU look at me.
You can't handle her dumping a drink at the store.
Ugh. I can't stay on this subject anymore.
Oh, and if you find the 'Mine' to Yours&Mine that I've been using all by myself, you won't be very happy, I'm sure.
Wait until I have a rabbit ( not the fuzzy lop-eared kind) that I hide, too.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.7

PSA- Baby Fever.

Dear People under the age of... Oh, we'll say 23 who believe their biological clock is banging away at the inside of their empty uterus,
WAIT!!!!!!
See, you're young, and maybe married, so you probably want a life.
Don't get me wrong, I love my Belle, but sometimes, I'm about ready to peel my own skin off.
My Husband can play video games. Why? Because it just so happens that I am choice #1. It might be due to having the feed bags, or just that I am the primary care giver. 10minutes into my new, and long awaited (and long whined for) video game, someone wants to eat while simultaniously kicking the Wiimote, and trying to pick off the small (SMALL!) Mole under my chin.
Seriously! When you decide you want to pop out a bundle-o-joy, just make sure you have nothing better to do.
They are great, but they make anything, and everything harder.
Besides, I was 19 and pregnant, almost a qualifier for a TV show!
You're all OMG I want a baby! SO CUUUUTE! OMGZ! Yes, cute.
I love her, I do! But it's hard sometimes, at inconvenient times.
So if you're not knocked up, breathe, take whatever meds you want for the illness you have (lord knows I can't), drink all the caf. You want, and remember when you pooped by yourself and took a long shower, because it was probably today.
I love Belle, and gladly give these things up to breastfeed, and care for her. She's my everything. EVERYTHING! Time, money, energy, EVERYTHING!

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5

An Ordinary Evening.

She feels warm enough, and yet my own feet cannot find heat. I have to assume it's a fever. Why not, it's been torturing me all week. I lie between the blankets in televisually lit room, watching her sift meticulously through toys and other various items on the floor. Grabbing one, inspecting it, pressing its buttons, turning its pages. Deciding it isn't more entertaining than what plays on the T.V., she moves on. Finally, selling on a large golden EGA.
I wait. Hour since the 2200 he went to bed, we are still awake. I'll get hell for it in the morning. We'll wake up hours later than his predetermined (and undisclosed) 'wake up' time, and he'll say the same thing he says about it every weekend. I've long since given up indignant feelings about it.
As soon as she nurses to sleep, I'll run downstairs and take more medicine: 1shot of Vick's something-or-the-other, and 2 Off-Brand Tylenol; it's all I can do to breathe while sleeping.
I don't know how the schedule ended up this way. I refuse to torment her by some futile attempt to force her to sleep or not according to when somebody thinks she ought to.
She will just scream, and I'll recieve dirty looks through droopy eyelids. Oh yes, we've been there.
This entire week I have claimed I am dying. Some invisible entity is crushing my sinuses with a specially designed vice. The Mucus Glob and his wife (From those Mucinex commercials) are residing in my lungs. And the Goodyear blimp has been replaced with a suitable stand-in; My head.
I'm either drugged up beyond comprehension, or to sick to know what's going on.
These feelings are only intolerable when the clock hits 0200.
She looks at me, flashes her squinty eyed, big-as-bears toothy grin. I smile back, she giggles, and resumes trying to chew the EGA.
It's either that, or she lies across my side, elbowing me between each and every rib.
I love her endlessly. My heart finds her to be mine, much more than is equal. There are only a handful of moments I can recall not spending with her.
It is nights like this that I honestly believe- It's you and me against the world, Monkey.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5

Resentment.

I am sick as a dog. I'm so sick, I can hardly sleep. My head is a giant throbbing balloon with razors flowing a steady burning stream through my sinuses. My chest is frozen in a corseted position filled with glass. And the only person who cares (beyond Belle) is Caity.
Caity is so kind, cleaning up my nasty snot rags, and she brought me soup yesterday.
I can see you from here. Sprawled across the bed. Taking every inch.
I hate being mad at you, but I fucking hate watching you sleep. "You Sleep all day"
Really? Because for a month I've been going to bed at 3 or 4am (because the baby would not sleep).
And today "if you weren't sick, you should have got up when I did."
"5am?!?"
"That's when most babies get up."
"Who? What babies?"
"Candyce's"
I AM NOT CANDYCE! I am raising my daughter just fine. I am so over this bullshit.
Not.All.Babies.Are.The.Same.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5

7,7,7,7

Days come and go. So many pass by, and I wonder if it will always feel like 'Groundhog Day'?
There are so many days I feel like I can't win. I feel like I am fading into the background.
So many days, I feel underappreciated.
It's just one of those days.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5

Nuh-Night

I have a splitting headache. I'm tired. And I'd like to curl up in my warm crowded bed and go nuh-night *weeps*
But, my baby is still up. Running around, playing, generally enjoying herself.
Don't tell me I need to keep her from napping. I just can't torment my child like that. I'd like for her to be tired at a reasonable hour, but I would like her to sleep when TIRED not just because it's time to. Like eating. Eat when you are hungry, not just because it's TIME to eat. I'm probably becoming ill, but I can tough this out.
It'll eventually get fixed, right?
(LIE TO ME IF YOU HAVE TO!)

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5