I wanted to do a nice, informative post on some fun topic, last night. I truly did. I need to get disciplined about writing, if only because goodness knows I need to be disciplined about
something. However, things went, as things in my life are wont to go,
aft agley.
The most significant issue was the fact that my Baby Bug just refused to go to sleep. If you've ever spent more than 24 hours with him, you know that it is a huge challenge for me to get him down to bed, whether for a nap or for the night. He just doesn't like to sleep, and if I am present, he thinks he needs to be nursing because that is what he likes to do. It's not always bad; most nights, we have a routine that he knows and generally finds reassuring and that I enjoy as well, because it's good and healthy to have regularly scheduled time for bonding. Every so often, however, he gets fitful and throws the routine to the proverbial winds, and then gets even more upset because (I think) he is out of sorts and out of his comfort zone. Then I get frustrated, which feeds his frustration, and then we are both exhausted and short-tempered and building on each other.
So, yeah. It is really awful. I know every parent has hard times like that, but it's doubly difficult when one is a single parent. There's a feeling of isolation and despair, because there's no one else to turn to for help, and while God is ever-present, that knowledge doesn't really help in the moment. Maybe my faith is too small. I don't know.
Anyway, beyond the frustration of just having to deal with the horror of a fussy, sleepless child, there is the anger of having a to-do list that isn't getting done. I had several things that I really wanted to do, and they just didn't happen last night. I'm not talking about some ephemeral plans for fancy nonsense; I'm meaning things like just washing the dishes.
Finally, I just gave up and said "Screw it", and laid myself down on the bed next to Baby Bug, holding him and letting him feel that it was okay to relax and drift off to sleep. At least I was well-rested when I awoke at 5 am, but I hadn't showered or gotten our clothes out or put together our breakfasts and lunches. And the little guy
still wouldn't let up. I went to shower this morning, and he came and stood in the bathroom and howled. I have no idea why he was upset, really. Then he insisted on opening the shower door (crying all the while), so that he got sprinkled with stray spray and I got a cold draft of morning air while soaking wet, and I rinsed shampoo from my hair while fuming, "Why? Why me?
Why, why, why?!"
My cheeks, jaw, neck, and shoulders are constantly tense. I know that I'm clenching my jaw at night when I sleep. I can't go on this way. Seriously.
The only thing that makes this all okay is the fact that at least I'm not doing
NaNoWriMo, so at least I'm not failing at
that.
Nathan was surprisingly unimpressed with the "snow" thing I kept mentioning, although I'm sure that when we get more of it, and it stays around for a while, he will be much more interested. The cats, by contrast, were rather intrigued, even disturbed. I realized that my hyper-aware and intelligent ninja cats had never seen snow before, and they were very cognizant of the fact that the white flakey stuff in the air and on the ground was something very new. They are inside-only cats, so they were not able to directly experience it, but let me know something was going on: They ran around my ankles meowing, then paced back and forth on the windowsill, their noses pressed against the window glass while their tails twitched and swished in slightly alarmed agitation.
