Wednesday was the first day in my mothering career that very nearly totally defeated me. For once in my young optimistic life, I came thisclose to throwing my hands in the air and sobbing, "Okay! I GIVE up!" It really felt like the universe was conspiring against us.
On the one hand, I took on way too much in one day. So it is all my own fault that it imploded at 4 o'clock.
On the other hand, certain circumstances came together just by chance that really didn't leave me with much choice other than to do my darndest and sit tight for a bumpy ride.
First, Jason and I had picked Tuesday morning a few weeks ago for Max, our yellow lab, to be de-balled. Yes, he is way overdue for this at 3 years old. But life happens. And his balls were on our back burner. Also he's a really tame lab when its just us at home - he doesn't chew stuff up, he doesn't act frustrated or antsy, so it was easy to keep putting off the expense.
Max came home loaded up with drugs and this cone thingy, and a bunch of strict instructions to not allow him to lick himself or get his crotch wet or dirty etc.
And he has been a TOTAL DRAMA QUEEN about it.
On top of that, Will has been messing with his diapers lately because they are uncomfortable because he really really really needs to transition to the potty. He pushes the diapers down and they leak everywhere.
I had heard mama's swear by this method
, so we up and started it two days ago. This is day 3. We are making progress. Ish. I am no Potty Whisperer though.
There have been a lot of messes. And SHOCKER even though I follow her rules and make him help me clean them up, his help is really not that helpful : /.
Okay, then... Henry (in the same day I decided we had to bite the bullet and cold turkey it on the potty training) promptly outgrew his bassinet in my room. I mean, I knew it was coming, but all of a sudden he decided he could pull up on the cloth sides of it.
You can kind of see the bassinet in the left of this pic:
Its beautiful and organic and I got the floor model for $100 (was originally $350 - which still shocks me. Good bassinets are wayyyy spensive!) and I have loved using it for Henry in my bedroom the past 5 and a half months.
But once they can push up real well its dangerous... he was definitely ready for the crib. (Which Will was still using with one wall taken off as a toddler bed).
Cue hormonal emotional breakdown on my part, putting my First Baby in a Very Big Bed, and my Baby-Baby all the way upstairs and so far from me.
Matters were made much much worse by Jason's being gone at class for this particular evening. I got everyone in their beds, after having bathed Will for the 4th time that day. And then Henry, my sweet little boy who NEVER cries, sobbed in his new crib, all alone and desolate, with real salty little tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. I cried so hard, y'all.
I laid on the floor outside his door, and I went in there every minute to tell him it was ok. And after he fell asleep (within an hour), he was happy. This was the next morning:
GAHHHH he is so gorgeous. WHERE DID THESE 5 MONTHS GO???????
I have always said how much I don't love the first few months with a new baby... I don't love my body, I don't love the tortuous sleep-deprivation, I don't love the weepy hormones, I don't love the disaster of my house, I don't love feeling stuck in the house and having each trip out be so difficult.
But then my heart breaks when this season is over. My baby Henry is on the verge of crawling - he creeps and rolls along all over the floor...
I fed him a little rice cereal for the first time last night... and my cute little fatty, he GRABBED that spoon and gobbled - literally, gobbled (sound effects and all) - it up. He is a big fan of solids. It cracks me up how different he is from Will - who was quite dramatic and indignant when I waved a plastic spoon in his face. How dare I offer him anything so clearly inferior to breastmilk! Not Henry, man... he was SO ready to expand his palate.
So that has been my week. Oh and on top of that, I got a few anonymous comments from my first troll (someone who anonymously stalks your blog, despite the fact that you clearly bother them... they just can't help from coming back for more and leaving you love notes - aka "dingbat" and "WHO CARES", etc). I know most bloggers run into this at some point, but it kind of shocked me how badly it hurt my feelings. I couldn't help imagining it being someone I know in real life... And I absolutely am a dingbat at times, but I can't imagine the level of hatred it would take to actually call someone that - anonymously or not. I have never be able to leave even a constructive anonymous comment. If I feel that I can't say it openly, that's the clincher for me.
So I decided I am not tough enough to leave the option for anonymous comments for now. I'm really sorry if this makes commenting harder - and please dear friends that for whatever reason read this rambley blog, please keep commenting because your words of wisdom are always so encouraging to me and I love getting to know you all!
I made it through this week. Somewhat bruised, unshowered, and probably 3 lbs heavier from stress-eating... not exactly triumphant. But grateful for the graces given to me. Not the least of which is the sunshine streaming through my window right now! Thank you Jesus!
I hope you all have had a better week! And here is to a BEAUTIFUL weekend. I'm going to go for a long walk today in the fresh air if I can get Will to go potty first ;). I may even go for a little run tomorrow, by myself. I think a run would feel really really good right now!
Labels: something true