It is 3:44 a.m. and, if I didn't know any better I would say that my head is on the verge of literally exploding. Let me explain the excruciatingly complex thoughts that the little wheels inside my head are cooking up. Kamila has been a relatively good sleeper since we started sleep training her at 6 weeks. I know that you are thinking, "Six weeks?!"
Yes, six weeks. Don't judge me. It actually worked like a charm, and for the most part has been effective throughout these ten months of K's life. BUT- then you have nights like tonight. She has been playing and crawling all day long, had one nap instead of two, took her out to the mall to get out of the house and was a perfect baby. However, she is up and kicking (literally) since 2 in the morning. I. Want. To. Hang.Myself. I have changed her diaper just in case, fed her, and burped her. Say what you may/want, but there is only so much you can do. These are the times when I feel so inadequate as a mother. I feel guilty for feeling aggravated that I have not slept for more than 6 hours straight since who knows when. At times I feel like just throwing in the towel. Oh, that's right. You just can't throw in the towel with motherhood. I don't want to make it seem like I hate being a mother and this is the most challenging thing I have ever come across because it is my 'Goliath' that seems too big to tackle. Most of the time, I love being the most important nurturer to that little, adorable, most precious baby girl. And
sometimes, I don't "love it". Sometimes motherhood becomes a challenge instead of a pleasure. Does feeling that make me such a terrible person? I don't feel that I am, but I find myself wondering if besides being a terrible person I am also deranged for not recognizing that I'm terrible. I can not tell you how aggravating it is to me to hear other novice mothers gush about how amazingly-incredibly-awesome being a mother is and how they love every second of it. REALLY?!
Every single second?? IF this is true, then they must be freaks of nature or high on something. I would love to have some magical contraption to spy on them 24/7 to verify that their life as a mother is as cheeky-rosy as they crack it up to be. And, if I were to miraculously discover that this actually IS possible, then I would love a magical contraption that makes it possible. I promise that I am a sane, loving, nurturing mother and person. This is what sleep deprivation does to me (not to make any excuses). Heck, I think it is my prerogative to not give in to mushiness and be able to acknowledge that motherhood is hard. You know, people say that mothers have a sixth sense. We really do. This is why Kamila can be crying in her room, with her and our room doors shut (of course it doesn't help that our rooms are right next to each other and the walls are paper thin--I hate old houses), and I will develop an excruciating migraine (sometimes just from
thinking that I can hear her cry) all while Chip sleeps like a log. Not fair. Even when she has stopped crying, I can feel my head throbbing as I am wondering if the soft whimpers that are audible to me are actually even audible. Two and a half hours later, she has finally stopped crying. My head is still vibrating like a string on a violin. Maybe I can go to bed now and stop trying to fathom why there are people who claim to completely understand babies and their wants and needs. I'm not a terrible mother...just a mother who is human.
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