Queen Crankpants of Crankonia
And no, It's not the baby. It's me.
Weekends are hard. I spend all week running just to stand stil, getting to work, getting me and baby and sometimes even mr. flea fed, getting us to bed, doing it again the next day. And weekends I want a break. But there isn't any break - Saturday AM we were all up at 6:30 with the baby, Sunday woke around 6, mr. flea got up with baby to "let me sleep in which lasted until 7:15. Woo, we're rally lazy around this house! Saturday is our day to spend together, our break from the hectic pace, and we did have a good time. mr. flea went out to get Dunkin' Donuts and I brewed the coffee and did dishes. Had our "family meeting" and decided to pay off my student loan with some cash we inherited (weird to be free of that!). Went to Carrboro, checked out the used baby clothing store (good, and they sell my nursing bra for when I splurge for another - the woman tagging inventory with sleeping 3 month old in a sling commiserated with me about wearing a bra constantly - except in the shower - since the birth of the baby.) Wandered the little mall, charming smiley baby in arms making friends throughout, bought birthday present for 5 year old nephew at a good toy store, bought practical but nice 75% off blouse for me, ogled Patagonia items (wicking! strech! perhaps sneaks out of your drawer and climbs mountains while you are at work!) for which I have no use. Tried to eat out but baby deteriorating, we had to take turns walking outside with her. Got home at 2 and I was exhausted. We spelled each other taking naps - I got 1.25 hours of sleep, not continuous - made dinner, ate, bathed baby, put baby to sleep, and I got my crank on.
I knew all along that mr. flea was much more tempermentally suited to parenthood than I. I need time alone, time to read, time to stooge around and ignore everyone. Down time. And babies are not very interested in their mothers having down time. They need you all the time. I understand this both intellectually and emotionally, and I knew I was going to have to step up and sacrifice a lot of my personal and private time. I think I'm doing a pretty good job, generally. But damn, it's hard. It's not just being tired, though I have yet to crack 5 hours of sleep in a row since the baby's birth. I feel as though I will never be free again. I didn't feel marriage - or partnership, which on my case predated marriage - was a loss of freedom, though many people do feel so. But having a baby feels like a life sentence - though I know it will get easier - and I wish I were one of those people for whom it wasn't.
Weekends are hard. I spend all week running just to stand stil, getting to work, getting me and baby and sometimes even mr. flea fed, getting us to bed, doing it again the next day. And weekends I want a break. But there isn't any break - Saturday AM we were all up at 6:30 with the baby, Sunday woke around 6, mr. flea got up with baby to "let me sleep in which lasted until 7:15. Woo, we're rally lazy around this house! Saturday is our day to spend together, our break from the hectic pace, and we did have a good time. mr. flea went out to get Dunkin' Donuts and I brewed the coffee and did dishes. Had our "family meeting" and decided to pay off my student loan with some cash we inherited (weird to be free of that!). Went to Carrboro, checked out the used baby clothing store (good, and they sell my nursing bra for when I splurge for another - the woman tagging inventory with sleeping 3 month old in a sling commiserated with me about wearing a bra constantly - except in the shower - since the birth of the baby.) Wandered the little mall, charming smiley baby in arms making friends throughout, bought birthday present for 5 year old nephew at a good toy store, bought practical but nice 75% off blouse for me, ogled Patagonia items (wicking! strech! perhaps sneaks out of your drawer and climbs mountains while you are at work!) for which I have no use. Tried to eat out but baby deteriorating, we had to take turns walking outside with her. Got home at 2 and I was exhausted. We spelled each other taking naps - I got 1.25 hours of sleep, not continuous - made dinner, ate, bathed baby, put baby to sleep, and I got my crank on.
I knew all along that mr. flea was much more tempermentally suited to parenthood than I. I need time alone, time to read, time to stooge around and ignore everyone. Down time. And babies are not very interested in their mothers having down time. They need you all the time. I understand this both intellectually and emotionally, and I knew I was going to have to step up and sacrifice a lot of my personal and private time. I think I'm doing a pretty good job, generally. But damn, it's hard. It's not just being tired, though I have yet to crack 5 hours of sleep in a row since the baby's birth. I feel as though I will never be free again. I didn't feel marriage - or partnership, which on my case predated marriage - was a loss of freedom, though many people do feel so. But having a baby feels like a life sentence - though I know it will get easier - and I wish I were one of those people for whom it wasn't.

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You adjust, and you get in a rhythm--that's "you" singularly, and "you" plural, as in "y'all", as in "your entire family." You get used to not being able to take that time when you need it, and learn to take it instead, when you get it. You learn to get by with less of it, and you find ways to sneak some in. Some ways work better than others. For quite some time, I took my me time late at night, but since the kids were still here in the morning, that ended up causing more problems than it solved.
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There are a lot of different kinds of mother. I am a MUCH better (and happier) mother of a child, and now a teenager, than I ever was of a baby. In my opinion, babies are the investment you make in order to get the eventual reward of children.
I swear to you, it gets easier. And once they talk it is SO entertaining!
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It doesn't seem like it now, but it does get better. Lately LB has been content to play by himself in the same room where I'm reading, which is a miracle. And DH has stepped up to give me more time by myself, which is nice. And thank god for business trips.
I remember when LB was little I did a lot of reading while nursing him. It seemed to help a bit. Getting DH to handle him while I went to do errands was also helpful, just because I could go out without the fifteen lbs of baby and the 30 lbs of baby stuff ... and it wasn't purely selfish as I came back with eggs and toilet paper!
It gets better. And more rewarding. I promise.
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