- Quinn is seven weeks old
- Quinn is fussy and needy
- I have had a crappy morning so far because of this
- I don't get the luxury of blog-venting about any of it because Quinn is fussy and needy
- Catch 22
- I might be losing my mind
- I *think* I'll get it back. Probably in another 2 months.
- Time to sign off and go cry. At least I can cry with my hands full.
Saturday, March 9
I write blog posts in my head. All the time. Sometimes ones that are (I like to think) pithy and deep and observant about the lovely, fleeting things of life. Sometimes just rants or life observations. Lately, I have been in-my-head-writing "reports" on how life has been going with a new baby and the end of winter and the two other kids around.
But they only make it past my thought-writing stage, and then... with the latest round of baby-soothing-holding-taking-up-two-arms, the latest OMG-we-have-mice crisis... the latest I-will-sit-and-do-nothing-useful-since-I-finally-have-a-moment decision....Well, those thought-out blog posts are gone. Past relevant, or more often just completely forgotten. I only have so many brain cells in use, and they have to be applied toward keeping the children fed and living. With about 10% of them reserved for keeping my work stuff from totally falling apart.
I'd type while I nurse, but that either means using my iPhone (oh that it the WORST when I want to really write and blurt and type...THE WORST.)... Or finagling this absurd system at my desktop where the desk just so conveniently does NOT fit with the Boppy, so I have to maneuver the keyboard at a teetery angle on top of a squishy boppy, try not to conk the baby's head, and keep the desk keyboard drawer from spontaneously sliding shut. It's a nightmare. Not worth it. (Though I'm doing it right now, because I am losing my mind today already, so what's a little war with the stupid keyboard and drawer gonna do to make it worse?)
So here I am.... tiny personal fall-aparts and crises and things-so-awful-it-becomes-hilarious happening over the last few weeks... mostly just me being a naturally emotional, but now-hormone-enhanced gal who needs to vent and let off the steam, but can't because of iPhone typing and keyboard drawer-shutting and baby-holding and mice-fighting.
And I can't blog about it to self-soothe.... So my Crazy just increases a bit more each time I can't let it out.
Ha. "Self-soothe". That fell out of my brain just now and I almost deleted it--- sounded so "babyish"--- but I stopped and realized-- that's exactly what writing does for me. Self-soothing. Like a binky or a thumb for a baby.... A blankie for a toddler... This blog-writing calms me. Settles me. Lets some of the hurt and unknowing and worry out... gets me back to center.
And I'd journal it... but writing is even slower than my awful typing if you can believe it. And there is something to be said for those few comments that dear ones leave that are like little lifelines.... helping me get a few more inches I can't get to on my own.
So I was gonna blog that Quinn is 7 weeks. And this was the same time when I came here to confess that Lucy was a colicky baby. And I went back and skimmed that old post and a few of the first comments... and it had me in tears. because while I don't think Quinn is COLICKY, he is definitely "high needs", as my friend Jaime put it about her own babies. And he's pretty predictable... we can "fix" the problem pretty easily when he's crying. But the fact is, he still cries. A lot more than I suspect many babies do. Tender mercy: he also sleeps really well at night. And also in the day as long as he's being held.Thank heaven for not being completely sleep-deprived!
But the fact is.... this is hard. And today, the seven-week itch must be hitting, because this is when I remember hitting a really rough personal spot with Lucy, and today has just been CRAP for me emotionally.
So now... with the juggling of the keyboard and the baby's head and I'm kinda a basket case anyway with no cohesive conclusions.... guess it's best to just stop this ridiculous attempt at blogging today. If anyone is still reading, you're probably like SUPER lost by now, because I don't think I have made any kind of sense throughout, so let me just summarize in bullet points:
P.S. Thanks but no thanks on asking me about post-partum depression. If you know me, you know what the deal is there. If you know me but don't remember what the deal is, you can go back and read some of it with the Lucy Era (April-October 2011). If you don't know me, trust me, it's been/being addressed. Sadly, most of this crazy-talking nonsense is pure Emily. With or without hormones.
Posted by Emily S. at 12:03 PM