I've been getting so many smiles the last few days! I love it! <3
That is all.
About Me
- Jen
- On my fourth day of maternity leave, I got bored. So I created this blog to reflect on the changes in my self and my life that my pregnancy has brought so far, as well as hopefully fill some days.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Blarg. Mommying Ain't Eezay.
I've hit a total wall. All I do all day is try to keep/stop Ezri from crying. She's so fussy, I feel like a comfort zombie. None of my needs/desires matter, I barely get to eat or use the bathroom, let alone do anything that I enjoy. I love my daughter, but being on Cry Prevention Duty is not enjoyable.
It'll pass, I keep telling myself. Soon she'll start smiling more regularly, laughing even. She'll be able to play with toys, amuse herself for more than 90 seconds at a time. It'll happen.
In the mean time, I'm losing my shit.
Parents I know (or run into in the mall and decide I need advice) keep telling me how fondly they look back on this period, and I will too. That is of little comfort when I haven't left the house in two days because Ezri won't calm down long enough to walk to the grocery store a block from our house without all passers by staring at me like I'm a terrible mother because my child is crying.
Contrary to my ideal, I've become a Boob Stuffer. After bouncing her in circles around my apartment for more than a half hour, I don't care if she ate 45 minutes ago or not: I stuff my boob in her mouth because I know it'll calm her. I've said it before and I'll say it again: the best piece of parenting advice I ever got was that your ideas about what kind of parent you want to be go out the window once the kid arrives and you become a pragmatist.
I just want this stage to be over with. It's exhausting and frustrating. There are beautiful moments too, but they're hard to recall when all I want to do is put her down long enough to shower and maybe, for a few minutes, feel like my own person, a separate entity.
It'll pass, I keep telling myself. Soon she'll start smiling more regularly, laughing even. She'll be able to play with toys, amuse herself for more than 90 seconds at a time. It'll happen.
In the mean time, I'm losing my shit.
Parents I know (or run into in the mall and decide I need advice) keep telling me how fondly they look back on this period, and I will too. That is of little comfort when I haven't left the house in two days because Ezri won't calm down long enough to walk to the grocery store a block from our house without all passers by staring at me like I'm a terrible mother because my child is crying.
Contrary to my ideal, I've become a Boob Stuffer. After bouncing her in circles around my apartment for more than a half hour, I don't care if she ate 45 minutes ago or not: I stuff my boob in her mouth because I know it'll calm her. I've said it before and I'll say it again: the best piece of parenting advice I ever got was that your ideas about what kind of parent you want to be go out the window once the kid arrives and you become a pragmatist.
I just want this stage to be over with. It's exhausting and frustrating. There are beautiful moments too, but they're hard to recall when all I want to do is put her down long enough to shower and maybe, for a few minutes, feel like my own person, a separate entity.
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