There are days where I think I can make this whole crazy thing work - those are usually the days where Barrett sleeps 9-11 hours straight, where the house looks semi-presentable, and where there are no fires to put out at work.
I think there have been about three of those days.
Let's face it, these days I should consider it a good day if the men in the white van and lab coats don't show up to cart me away.
I really had NO idea how hard this whole thing was going to be. I mean, I knew it would be tough, I knew that there'd be a few months of tiredness, of not being able to get everything on my list done, of dirty bathrooms and dirty dishes. But I had no idea just how thin I'd be stretched, how I would feel constantly like I'm hanging on by a thread and how I would consistently feel like I'm about one annoyance away from losing my cool at any given minute. And Tim can attest to the fact that I've lost that so-called cool many, many (many, many?) times.
I had heard of mommy guilt but never comprehended what it meant until I was in the full throes of it. Every day I have to fight the guilt of feeling like I'm failing as a mother, failing as a wife, and failing as an employee. I rush off to work in the mornings, after a usually unsatisfying night of sleep, without spending much time with Barrett. I rush out of work to pick him up, about an hour earlier than I did pre-baby, and I have to fight distraction the majority of the day and pretend like I care anymore about what I'm being paid to do. Weeknights are frazzled, with a very tired mommy, trying to squeeze in some quality time with a baby who's been over-stimulated all day and really just wants to close his eyes and go to sleep, with a dog who's been cooped up all day and wants some attention and cuddles of his own and a husband, who's entitled to an attentive (and awake) wife and some dinner and non-crabby company. Let me just say, I live for the weekends, where we all get to sleep in, no alarm clocks, no waking the baby before he's ready, just nice, relaxing, non-cranky time together and lots of kisses and cuddles.
I'm not sure what the solution is for us. I can tell you, what we're doing now just isn't working. I so admire those women for whom it does work. At one point in my life, I really thought it would be me. But I didn't consider the emotions that take over when that little baby comes. I didn't realize the love and guilt and adoration and frustration that come with being a working mother.
And so this game of guilt continues. I keep being told that it does get easier. I'm still waiting.