Let the Vent-Fest Ensue

Disclaimer: This post is going to absolutely put in the running for "Worst Mom Ever." Maybe even to claim the reluctant title. But I've got to get it off my chest. Hopefully, I'm not the only parent who's ever felt like this. Let the vent-fest ensue...

Meda is officially one month old. It's been both the shortest and longest month of my life. Weird, I know, but it is true.

I wanted to share a few thoughts that have flown through my mind over the past month. Go ahead and judge me. I'm too sleep deprived to even give a newborn turd what anyone thinks at this point. Hell, I may regret this post (i.e. my confession), but whatever...


1) "When will this stage eeeeennnndddd????"

Okay, sure... the newborn/baby stage doesn't last long. I get it. Yes - "they're only small once." And "they grow up too fast." And "they're in college before you know it." And even the elusive "you are so blessed to have her."

I get it.

I really and truly do. But I'm exhausted. I'm literally dragging myself through each day at this point, just trying to survive.

Trying to feed the new baby, trying to feed the preschooler, trying to feed myself.

Trying to do the laundry, trying keep the dishes from becoming an intense game of Jenga, trying to sweep dog hair off the floor.

Trying to get work done, trying to run errands, trying to still be a good friend and wife.

Trying to hold the baby to keep her happy, trying to play "princess" with the preschooler to keep her happy, trying to not nag the husband to keep him happy.

Trying to keep everyone happy but myself.

Trying to just make it to the next time the baby naps.

Ugh... and let's not even mention the dogs. They basically don't exist in my mind anymore.  #PoorThings #AnybodyWantAnyDogs

As a self-proclaimed "non-baby" person... the whole "baby-ness" of these first few months is overwhelming. Plus, you are "around" roughly 678 times more than you would be normally. Meaning, you are basically on house arrest 99.999988% of the day and forced to be home with baby (especially if you are breastfeeding and the sole source of food) as well as how you are quite literally awake more than normal.

Storytime

There's no break. No off-time. No vacation. Your life begins a continuous three hour cycle of feeding, changing diapers, and cat napping. Along with all that other crap I listed above. You begin to live three hours at a time.

And for the record, three hours is not a lot of time to live. And it's exhausting trying to fit everything in and make everyone happy and not completely show to the world how much of a zombie you've become.

I'm just plain tired.


2) "Shut up already!"

The crying....

And the screaming....

Ohhhh, the screaming....

It. Doesn't. Ever. End.


3) "What did I do to deserve this??"

There's no way this type of punishment didn't come from some absolutely horrific and ghastly act on my part. I just wish I could remember who I murdered or what other heinous crime I committed to deserve this whole "parenthood" thing...

Oh, wait? I asked for this??

Hmmm....


4) "I am so in love."

How stupidly obnoxious is it that such a mini-person, one who weighs less than my upper leg, spits up all over my shoulder, lap and hair, and keeps my boobs aching 24/7 completely take over my heart?

In those rare moments when the darkness of sheer exhaustion and temporary baby hatred hasn't clouded over, I'll look at her little face - adorable in my biased mother eyes when she's not screaming or vomiting curdled breast milk all over me - and be completely blown away with love.

Annoying, right?

Normally, someone who treats us like newborns do would be tossed head first off the "I like you" cliff.... not to mention the "I love you" mountain....

But Meda, complete with screaming tantrums and sleepless nights, has completely stolen my heart, just like her sister did 4 years ago.

And I'll get through this. Just like I did before.

Three hours at a time.