My parents left today. And I am a mess.
Ms. Super Planner has been here for most of July. It’s been a Godsend. I don’t think I’ve done Missy’s laundry all month. Ms. Super Planner did it. She did my laundry, too. And my husband’s. She also unloaded the dishwasher as soon as it stopped. Reminded me to run the dishwasher. She dressed Missy every morning. And took over the soothing process at 10 PM every night so I could get some rest until the 2:30 feeding.
She even cleaned the guest bathroom before she left.
I tried to have it all together. To run the household and care for the baby while Cowboy brought home the bacon. So 1950’s, I know. With Cowboy’s new job and a new baby, we knew we’d be in boot camp for awhile. Then I took on a part time gig, which was stupid, but I really, really wanted to work for this client.
Cowboy’s dream job is still his dream job, but he quickly figured out that "we’d love to have a fresh set of eyes on things," during the interview process is code for: please come in and clean up this mess that someone else got us into.
He leaves the house at 5:45 AM and often doesn’t come home until 7 or 8 at night. He’s exhausted and stressed. I feel so bad handing a baby with the evening fussies off to him so I can get a break. That’s not fair to him. Or Missy.
Missy isn’t colicky. But she is moderately fussy. She’s also past the snuggle-on-the-chest-while-you-zone-out-in-front-of-the-TV-phase. She wants to move. This is not a baby that likes to hang
out by her lonesome. Take her to a coffee house and she’ll sit quietly and gaze in wonderment at everything for an hour. But she’ll fuss mightily after 5 minutes in the baby swing while you try to get some semblance of dinner together.
We’re also still doing the dream feed at 9:30 or so, which means she’s not soothed until 10, 10:30 or 11 and later. And it’s that last hour that is soooo exhausting. I’ve almost lost it a few times. I’ve had to put her in her crib crying and walk away.
In the process, I learned that you can do it all.
But only for about six weeks.
And then you start to fall apart.
Which is just about when Ms. Super Planner showed up and saved my ass. But now she’s gone.
I started crying in bed last night. I don’t want to go back to where I was the beginning of this month: exhausted, barely functioning and not enjoying my new daughter. I begged Cowboy to please come home earlier and manage his day at work so he’s not so exhausted at night (like eating lunch or working out). If I can leave the house for an hour to work out or run I am sure I would have enough endorphins to get through the late night soothing routine. Just for a few weeks until Missy is old enough to go to the gym day care.
He promised and I hope we turn over a new leaf.
Why is it then that I can’t stop crying today?