To Be Honest…

Sometimes lately I think I should abandon this project and it’s been less than 2 months. That sounds just like me. Hopefully just like my old self. The baby is 11 months and I still have so many days, the majority of my days are so overwhelming. My ears are ringing and my head is spinning from the constant crying and whining. Yes, there are a multitude of sweet, adorable and beautiful moments that I wouldn’t give up for the world. But there are many many moments with whining and crying and refusing to be set down, co-sleeping every night, every nap is a nap-trap, crying because he’s in constant teething pain, refusing to sit or eat in the high chair, crying hysterically for a nursing session when he just nursed 30 minutes ago, crying because I have to walk out of the room to do something, crying because I won’t let him do something dangerous or disgusting, and the list goes on and on. Crying on and on. It’s exhausting and overstimulating. After that I’m supposed to try to sit down and write with a baby in my lap? Not likely. I feel like I’ve been hit in the head with a club. This lack of help and family support is really really stressful. I want to curl up in a ball or scream but right now I mostly want to sleep - in a bed. Alone. Not worried about the baby for a few hours. I’m always worried about him. I’m stressing myself out but I’m also doing this with no help. So even though I am anxious- I’m rightfully so. It’s a hard job. Someone else watching him by themselves for 30 minute a day isn’t very much to get your head on straight - and it’s really not all by themselves because the baby still needs to see me. He adorably toddles off, explores but needs to turn around and check it I’m still there. If I’m looking at him, if I’m thinking of him - and I am. I always am. I love him so much. I always thinking of him but who’s thinking of me?

Nombre cinquante / # 50