Frustrated with Motherhood

Last night I went to bed dreading the next day, and the only reason was because I would have to start all over again getting BD dressed, trying to run without interruption, feeding Pancake before her screams reached misery level. My fears were realized today when I was trying to get BD dressed for the day so we could leave the house to buy a birthday present for a three-year old's party we have tomorrow morning. You would think going to a toy store would motivate BD to cooperate, but it didn't. This is how our dialogue went (keep in mind that I was holding a crying baby while this is going on):
Me: Okay, BD it's time to get dressed.
BD: NOOOOOO. I don't want to get dressed.
Me: We can't go to the store if you're not dressed.
BD: Well, I don't want to go to the store. (I fell right into that one.)
Me: We're going to the store whether you like it or not. We need to get C a birthday present and we need to buy some wine. Now what underwear do you want to wear today?
BD: I don't want underwear. I want a diaper.
Me: Fine. (I pull out a diaper.) Come here so I can get you dressed.
BD: I don't want to get dressed. (He's wriggling all over the floor so as to evade me.)
Me: I'm not going to deal with you while you're like this. I'm going to get Pancake dressed. When you're ready to behave I'll come get you dressed.
BD follows me into Pancake's room and insists that he's ready now. We go back to his room. I try to put his diaper on.
BD: I don't want that diaper. (I grab another diaper and try again.) I don't want that diaper either.
Me to myself: Jesus Christ BD make up your f***ing mind!
Me out loud: These are the only two choices so you better choose one or I'm going to choose for you.
BD: Well, I don't want any diaper. I don't want any pants either. (Finally he points to one. I put it on him and start putting pants on -- pants that he did not pick out.)
BD: I don't want those pants! I don't want this diaper! I want underwear!
Me: You told me you wanted a diaper.
BD: I want these underwear. (He pulls out airplane underwear from the drawer.)
I yank the pants off, then the diaper. I put the underwear on and ask him what pants he wants with a selection of four pairs on the floor. BD refuses to choose pants. And the saga continues.
We finally left the house about 45 minutes later.

Our outing was uneventful and Pancake even slept so I could get all of my errands run. I never used the drive-through at the bank before I had kids. Now I realize what a convenience it is, when they don't make you wait that is. BD picked out his next toy for the imminent completion of his latest potty chart. This one requires 49 stickers for a present and BD has 43 -- not one is for pooping. "I don't like to poop on the potty. I only like to pee." Great!

today's happenings

One of BD's favorite parts of going to the zoo is watching the Amtrak and Septa trains go by on the nearby tracks. Tonight at dinner we were taking turns saying what animals we saw at the zoo. When it was BD's turn he said, "we saw Amtrak passenger trains and Septa passenger trains."

BD has been sick these past few days (a fever, cough and now a runny nose) and when he woke up from his nap he was more groggy than usual. I had just gotten Pancake to fall asleep in the carrier while making dinner when BD asked if I could hold him. I said, well, I just got Pancake to sleep but I can hug you and hold you like this, and I squatted down and hugged him for a few seconds. Then I did it again. Then he said, "no I want you to hold me." So I put Pancake down in the bouncy chair and picked up BD just as Mr. D started doing the dishes. BD promptly said that he wanted to help Daddy do the dishes. I held BD for a total of five seconds and woke Pancake up in the meantime. Mr. D, and then I, had to hold our screaming baby while we ate our dinner. I was pissed at BD for discovering and wielding his guilt-power over me.

The Philadelphia Zoo has three large screens that show tigers in their natural habitat. We have never stopped to watch it but BD looked intrigued and it was just starting a new loop so we sat down. I thought that it might not be the best thing for him to watch (tonight he was afraid of the ice cream truck) and sure enough the violent killing of the tigers' prey was imminent so I said, "this might be a little scary; we should go." As I'm escorting my three-year old out the woman sitting next to us snarkily says, "it's a natural part of life." If I had more balls I would have turned around and said, "do you want to wake up with him at 3:00 in the morning when he's crying from a bad dream?" Lots of things are natural parts of life, it doesn't mean they're appropriate for a toddler!

This reminds me of the woman who blurted out, "who would bring their newborn to a baseball game?!" as Pancake and I walked past her at the Phillies game last week. Why do people think it's okay to vocalize their mean-spirited opinions about how others raise their kids?

6 weeks

Pancake is six weeks old already. She has become quite interested in the world around her, at least the world within a foot of her face. She opens her mouth and looks like she wants to say something fascinating. Sometimes a coo escapes, sometimes nothing. She's quite darling. She smiles indiscriminately and that, too, is wonderful even if unintentional. She is awake more of the day and less at night. And the times she's awake during the day are increasingly cry-free. Her eyes say that she's thinking and something is going on in that brain of hers.

She's a cutie pie too.


Her first dress, thanks to cousin KDR.

depressed? anxious? guilty? all of the above

Five and a half weeks of sleepless nights is leaving me exhausted, drained, illogical, unable to think clearly, cranky and bitchy. I feel guilty for not spending more time with baby Doodle, awful for treating Mr. D badly when he's been so great these past four weeks, badly that my body hasn't shrunk back to its original size and weight yet, and anxious about not having enough time in the day to do all the things I want to get done plus do something fun that BD will enjoy. I'm my own worst enemy. This morning when Mr. D got up to play with BD and Pancake was sleeping next to me in the co-sleeper I should have been sound asleep, too. I was certainly tired enough. But my anxiety-ridden personality wouldn't allow it. Will I have enough time to do a quick morning yoga routine (10 minutes), run and shower before I have to call my dad at 10:00? We want to go to the regatta on the Schuylkill River today. What time will we finally get there by the time I do all of those morning activities plus eat breakfast and nurse Pancake a few times. Not to mention dealing with the now expected demands of baby Doodle before we leave and getting a picnic together. Then there's the issue of getting back to our house in time for BD's afternoon nap (which is becoming extinct, but hasn't disappeared completely yet).

I feel like I'm on the brink of a break down. Add to that the anxiety about knowing that things are only going to get worse when Mr. D goes back to work in 2 short weeks!

update

Things have gotten a little better since my last post. Baby Doodle still hasn't been napping and he's sat in time out each day at least once. Using the potty is a slow progression, but progressing nonetheless.