I'm having a hard time. I'll admit it. It's not like I've ever been shy before about talking about being tired or emotional, so why start now? In my defense, I really try not to make my blog all about that. It' pretty boring. And it's not what I want to focus on. But I do focus on it, in "real life" because it consumes my attention whether I want it to or not.
Liam got an activity book for Christmas (thanks Aunt Shelley!) and yesterday he worked his way through most of it. He needed help reading the instructions. One of the questions was basically "if you had a superpower, what would it be?" He didn't know, so I tried to think of some silly examples. Then he came up with his: Make Devin grow faster so Mommy and Daddy wouldn't be so tired and would be able to play with him more. I made a face, then helped him write "Make my baby grow."
Then today I saw a quote on the internet that said, "I want to be a superhero. I would use my powers to take your pain away." And I cried. A lot. Very quietly because Devin was sleeping on the bed beside me. I figured that the bed shaking slightly might just sooth him into sleeping a little more deeply.
You see the connection, right? For Liam it's just about wanting someone to play with. But for me, it's about hurting, about feeling guilty that I can't figure out a way to get enough sleep to feel halfway human some of the time, about being afraid that I'm missing out on his life. I'm afraid that I'm losing an amazingly close and loving connection I've always had with him.
The quiet voice of reason tells me that he'll be fine. That his dad does a great job of filling in the gaps. That no kid needs to be played with and entertained all the time. That I do, in fact, play with him and include him often in the routines of everyday life. That he had it really, incredibly good for the first four years of his life - as far as my constant attention and companionship went. That he loves and enjoys his little brother. That this is just a season and one day - not so very long from now really - we will all play together and have super-silly-amazing fun we can only dream of now.
But the baby is NOT sleeping better as time goes on. Possibly worse at the moment. Teething? Illness? Normal development? Tummy adjusting to new food? Probably all. And who knows when it will improve. It's right on this blog. Liam was still waking up every one to two hours when he was 18 months old. Then I stopped nursing him at night. And still, it took a long time for him to sleep through the night.
All of which may bring up, for some readers, the subject of "sleep training." If you aren't familiar with the concept, or the debate, consider yourself lucky. If you are, please know that I am very familiar with it and am not looking to discuss it right now. Although I'll admit that just about everything I've ever read about babies sleeping has been floating around in my brain lately and I've been desperately hoping that some answer will present itself to me. Sort of like magic, I think.
I was thinking about doing a post, because the question came up in Facebook comments about a recent post, about the ways that I enjoy my children. It would have been a good topic for today and it will make a good one another day. But for now, this is what you get. Tired. Feeling sad. Looking at my beautiful, charmed life and wishing it were easier. No happy, uplifting stinger at the end to make you glad you clicked over. I'll put on a happier face another day.
Some people say that the internet is bad for us because we see everyone else doing great and think that they never struggle and then we feel bad about ourselves. Well here it is. Your dose of, "Well at least I'm having a better day than her!" OK, that does almost make me smile. I'll make it.
I have laughed today, although most notably it's been at my children's calamities. Liam, crumpled on the laundry room floor sobbing because his father accidentally saw him while he was trying to be "Ninja sneaky." Devin, mouth clamped down on his pacifier, sucking madly and whining loudly because he wasn't getting any milk while the real deal was inches away. I should not laugh at these moments, but I guess it's a dark humor kind of day.
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