So good at this.

I pulled up the dashboard of this blog and saw that I had an unpublished post titled "This is not going well" -- I'll say.  So I hit publish.  And now I write a little more, because writing makes me feel better, sometimes.

It's been a rough week.  I went back to work this week, and that in itself was fine but it still amps up the ambient stress of my life considerably.  I still feel very disoriented by playing trucks all morning, then dashing to campus to be Professor Me, then hurrying back home to feed and care for fractious little ones again.  I know that it'll get better and I'll get used to it again, but right now I feel very out of kilter.

Pip has been sick.  Nothing serious.  Just enough to make him contrary and stubborn.  Fred is getting better at sleeping all night (well, he gets up to eat.  But he goes to bed reasonably well and what more can I ask really).  But he fights naps with all his strength and will basically only sleep soundly if the house is quiet and I"m rocking him and holding in his binkie.  Obviously morning naps are therefore all but impossible and I spend the entirety of Pip's nap trying desperately to get my baby to sleep enough to compensate for his inappropriate wakefulness the rest of the time.  Oh a tired baby is super fun by the way.   I loooooooove the constant screaming.  Love it.  Every instant of my day is spent in meeting other people's needs.  I don't even shower alone a lot of the time.  I certainly wouldn't dream of peeing alone and if I do I pay for it in destruction.  And yet despite how relentlessly I'm trying to care for my kids, I constantly feel like a failure.  If I'm caring for Pip I'm ignoring Fred's screams.  If I'm caring for Fred then Pip is awfully sad I'm not reading and playing and doing what he needs.  Its a fun game of constant failure.  Meanwhile the house deteriorates to the point of unliveability and we subsist on hot dogs and cereal.

On top of that my D-MER/PPD is just killing me.  A big part of it I'm sure is that I'm unable to do all the self care that would make things better.  See previous paragraph.  I'm doing what I can.  I take my medication.  I go outside everyday.  I walk several miles every day but it still doesn't feel like enough exercise to really cheer me up.

This morning I woke up depressed.  I just couldn't believe it was all starting again and it would be another twelve hours before I had any hope of real relief. Its hard having to leap into action the minute you wake up.  First I feed Fred.  Then I get Pip up who is usually clamoring.  Then I change diapers and get kids dressed and pump milk for the freezer and try to get me dressed too, and then I get Pip breakfast and Fred is starting to get mad I haven't gotten him and oh by the way his morning diarrhea has manifested itself right on time.  Feeding Fred and pumping triggers D-MER and suddenly I'm crushed by feelings of sadness and suicidal ideation.  It goes away when I'm done pumping, but I'm totally drained.  Meanwhile Pip does the usual kiddo thing -- using his spoon as a weapon, fiddling in the  dishwasher, throwing cars.

Fred is now full on screaming to be held.  So I put him in the frontie pack and he's mellow enough that I can do other things, except doing the things with an extra 15 pounds strapped to your chest is awfully difficult.  Pip messes up the dishwasher one to many times and I yell at him and scare both my children.  Now Fred is screaming inconsolably again and I start sobbing because I'm a bad mother and my house is a mess and I can't face it all anymore.  Pip keeps saying "mama sad? mama sad?" but I can't stop crying and I don't know what to do.

My MIL is out of state.  I try calling mom but no answer -- she must be out of the house.  I keep getting the thought "call Amber.  Call Amber."  But it is very hard to call someone and admit that you can't handle what everyone else seems to handle.  Its hard to say "drop everything in your life and come help me survive mine."  But I did.  And she came immediately.  She played with my kids for over an hour so I could just clean my house without being pestered and hassled.  It is amazing what you can do with two free arms.  My house is all clean.  Well, as clean as it needs to be for my peace of mind.  My children got the attention they desperately wanted from someone who wasn't sick of it all.  So thank you Amber.  For meaning it when you said "if you need anything just call."

I packed up my crew to take on the first rain walk of fall.  Pip loved the new yellow boots I bought him and splashed happily in the puddles.  We walked with my mom to the bakery and I bought us all treats.  Pip played in the wet park and sat on the dinosaur that has been there since my childhood.  We came home and Pip announced he wanted a nap and a "time out" (I had to give myself a time out earlier this week and he's been very interested in the idea that you can just declare you need solo time and shut the door.)  So I snuggled him up in his bed for his self imposed me time.

Now Fred is screaming and I must away.  I can do this.  But not without my village.

This is not going well

I really need future me to do a quick "It gets better" PSA for myself.  I know that it will get better, and fairly quickly.  But right now things are not great.  I wake up in the morning and feel completely depressed and unable to face the day.  If my children are awake but not screaming I ignore them until they are actually distressed.  It isn't that long of course -- Fred usually puts in an order for breakfast pretty insistently.  I take my medication and tell myself that suddenly I'll be doing fabulously well.

Every time I feed Fred I feel awful.  Sometimes its just fairly blue and other times it is so bad I can barely function.  I feel like a failure, like I'm an awful mother.  I don't want to feed him and feel cross that he wants to eat.  Sometimes I think about throwing myself down the stairs.  I have to remind myself that my children actually really like me and would be quite sad if I disappeared.  But sometimes I feel like I"m just everyone's meal ticket and maid and errand runner and not a person at all.

I hate having to hitch my happy face on.  It's exhausting.  Sometimes people who know I've been struggling ask if I'm doing better.  Nope.  I'm just trying to go through the motions as enthusiastically and authentically as I can manage.  I'm glad I'm pulling it off so convincingly.

I feel guilty that I didn't have this problem with Patrick in the same degree, even though none of it is my fault nor is it a reflection of feelings for one child or the other.

I often cry at the end of the day because Fred demands attention until after nine, at which point I"m so exhausted I get straight in bed.  Sometimes my little treat is when I wake up in the night and know I still get a few more hours (after feeding) to myself in my own bed with nobody touching me or talking to me or needing me to do stuff.

I am happy for parts of every day, and I am a good mom.  Patrick and I have been playing an awesome new game on my bed (allowing me to lie around as I want to) in which his playmobils colonize my pillows.  I help to make them houses out of bedding and they go in and take naps, and sometimes come out to play tag or hike mommy mountain or engage in other fun playmobil activities.  I bought Pip a balloon that has provided hours of family fun.  I bought hot dogs and so P has had is all time favorite meal (hot dogs and grapes) two nights in a row.  Is it because I can barely function? Maybe.  But he's also thrilled to pieces and that feels good.  Previously I think he thought you could only get hot dogs at the Costco kiosk -- a fancy dining experience.  But no! You can have them at home too!!!  Living the good life.

I'm also good to Fred.  Much as I hate breastfeeding I am chunking that boy up.  He weighed in at 13 pounds which is fairly hefty for a two month old.  I make sure he gets a nice clean fuzzy sleep sack to sleep in.  I let him stay up watching Grantchester with me (okay actually I have to stay up soothing his shrieking)