Now that I’ve been back to work for a full month, I’m starting to feel like I’m settling into a bit of a routine.  Mornings are still batshit insane and incredibly stressful, but I think that’s probably unavoidable.  I end up yelling at H a lot in the morning, and he gets kind of sullen, then I feel guilty, and everyone has a wonky start to the day.  But DUDE, PUT YOUR FUCKING SHOES ON THE FIRST TIME I ASK!!!!”

He’s only 4, I need to remind myself of this.  But also, he’s 4, so he needs to get with the program.

The pumping is going fine…it’s a chore, but it’s a chore I’ve gotten used to.  I have plenty of milk, and I’m not worried about running low.

Work itself is good.  I’m learning a lot, I feel challenged, I’m kept on my toes.  I like the people I work with.  I will admit, though, that how I feel at the end of the work day varies greatly from one day to the next.  Some days I feel very competent and that I made a good choice about where I am working and what I am doing.  Other days I have intense anxiety and intrusive thoughts about not being smart enough, not being capable, etc.  I know a lot of this is normal anxiety that anyone might experience in a relatively new job after a long hiatus from work.  I also know a lot of this is probably attributable to the chronic sleep deprivation that’s been going around our house.  The last time E slept through the night was the beginning of October, and before that, it was sometime during the summer.  He gets really worked up if I don’t go in and nurse him every time he wakes up.  One night recently he was up 6 times before 9:30PM.  I thought I was going to die.

I’m getting really frustrated with it.  I remember H was a terrible sleeper too, and I know that he outgrew it eventually, but geez, I’m tired NOW, and I’d like a reprieve from this NOW.  And the thing is, I’m not even being unrealistic about it.  I EXPECT one or two awakenings per night.  I don’t mind one or two awakenings, and I can generally function pretty well after one or two sleep interruptions.  But this constant getting in and out of our bed, laying on the floor with E, putting him in our bed, rocking him, nursing him, God knows how many times per night.  I don’t even count anymore.  It feels like I’m trying to put him to sleep all night long.  Probably because I am.

One of the worst parts about the sleep deprivation is the physical pain that my body is in.  I end up sleeping in really weird positions, usually with my neck bent down and my back arched to try to nurse E.  And so my neck and shoulders hurt all the time.  I haven’t been able to turn my head all week.  When I back out of the driveway, I have to ask H: “Hey little guy, do you see any pedestrians, animals, motor vehicles or children on bikes??”  You think I’m kidding.

This will pass.  It will.  I do love my 22-lb, 7-month old E.  He is lovely, snuggly, and sweet, even if he’s a shitty sleeper.

On the agenda for the weekend:  sanding, priming and painting the bathroom; holiday picture self-portraits; dinner with friends on Saturday, lunch with friends on Sunday, and hopefully, some fucking sleep.