The Pope isn't feeling well, he retreated to his quiet guest room hours ago.
HOURS AGO and still, she does not sleep.
She is now fed twice, rocked three times, and jiggled in the way she likes many times, too many to count. Diaper changes: two. She's been swaddled, she's been unswaddled, and the whole time she will not stop fussing. She will doze, she will catnap, but she will not sleep.
I am losing it, folks. She needs to sleep, goddamn it.
I will lose my fucking mind in a second.
In all of this, every time my patience just wears out and snaps, I look at my baby girl and love her more than I could possibly express. I roll my eyes, I curse out loud and then I reach down and see her alert eyes, and I kiss her cheek, I kiss the soles of her feet, I whisper to her that I love her so much.
What she does to me!
This kid is killing all the toughness inside of me.
Lucy picked tonight to need me again, after three weeks of being the most perfectly behaved cat I've ever seen. Tonight, she is trailing beside my feet, winding her way in my walking path and yowling at me. I love her dearly, so will not kick her, although the temptation is great. She finally climbed up on the baby blanket and slept beside me.
I can wash the blanket.
I love the cat.
So, how are you doing?
1 comment:
I truly empathize. It does get better. Soon she will be smiling at you (non gas related) and somehow all the lack of sleep will seem insignificant,
Hang in there!
I must add you are also freaking me out. These posts bring back too many memories of how I felt with Isla...with our second on the way in 11 weeks I have no idea how I am going to cope!!! Aggghhh!!!
Post a Comment