This might be my most lame post ever. I am pooped. I must be going through a slump because the past few weeks I have been physically and emotionally spent.
I could definitely use more sleep. I have been getting an average of three to six hours a night. My babe is teething. We’ve been through teething before, but this new molar is a monster. She is up many hours a night in pain. About a week ago she was up all night screaming. We thought she was having night terrors. She had no fever or sign of a cold. The dumb parents we were we simply tried our best to coax her to sleep. I said a few accidental swear words that night. I said plenty of prayers. I don’t remember pulling an almost-all-nighter since she was a newborn.We got in a couple arguments. I may have had a few moments where I was completely irrational.
The next three nights really pressed me. My husband and I have been living on caffeine the past few days. Once I saw that little piece of white poking through, I knew it was time to bring out the big nerf guns. We dosed her on Ibuprofen at night, woke up with her many times to give her some water or help soothe her back to sleep, and took turns doing our “duty”.
Yesterday I went on a long hike with my hubby and Lilly. I was so tired I didn’t even shower before bed. That is pretty gross, and something I normally never do. Well, apparently my body has grown accustomed to waking up over five times a night because my daughter slept like a rock and only woke twice, but I was staring at the ceiling, my face all scrunched up in a pickle because I COULD NOT FALL ASLEEP!
I feel like I look ten years older. Speaking of that, this week has been my week of “humility”. I noticed those first little wrinkles in the corners of my eyes. Not gonna lie, I freaked out. I wracked my brain thinking of all those times in college I used the tanning bed and gave myself a good talkin’ to. Then I rummaged through my beauty baskets in search of all those night creams and eye creams I had intended to use over the past year. Darn Tempe, AZ! Why did you convince me that beauty was in being as bronze as possible? Why did I ignore all those service announcements in my early twenties reminding me to apply that healthy dose of sunscreen? Hrmph…
Which leads me to my next rant. The gym. It has been over a year since I’ve gone. I had gotten pretty comfortable in my skin. No mirrors to compare myself to. I forgot I owned those cute Lululemon tanks. I’ve gone on lots of runs, but that’s different. Well, my hubby bought me a TWO YEAR GYM MEMBERSHIP. No big deal, no pressure. So I went back for the first time and decided to take a Boot Camp class. I’ve done those classes plenty of times. I lined up next to all the ladies (not gonna lie, classes make me competitive), and gave it my all. I started feeling sick after all those high knee’s and burpees. Then we did suicide drills. I was doing my best to beat everyone and pretend I was still in decent shape. Wrong. All at once, I felt sick. I jogged to the corner, tried to collect my breathe, and felt the dizziness and nausea coming on. I looked at the clock and saw I was only half way through. Gathering my pride, I left the class early. The next day I was walking around like I had a stick up my booty. I realized quickly I lost a lot of my muscle and that I have a lot of work to do. Never a fun realization!
I’ve gotten all behind on my writing efforts, too. I’ve got a list full of ideas for blog posts and a calender that is going out the window. Aw shucks. This little blog has been pushed around a bit. I’ve had nights where I pull out my computer once the baby is asleep and just stare at the screen. Sometimes I nod off while trying to write a post. Other times I cannot muster up any energy to write and I simply throw on a mindless episode of New Girl. Or worse, I just lay in bed and stare at the ceiling, incapable of doing anything with my body or mind but unable to fall asleep. That is when I really know I have had a day!
Sorry for the rant. I am sure many of you understand. Being a mom makes me feel both powerful and able to do anything, and exhausting and pushed to the limits. At the end of the day, no matter how pressed I am or how many wrinkles I see or how sore my butt is, I am so grateful I get to experience this insanity with my husband. Why would anyone want to undergo such torture as getting little to no sleep (which, by the way, is literally a form of torture), endure endless temper tantrums by a little whiny monster, or spend free time watching another episode of “Elmo” even though the thought of it is cringe-worthy?
Oh yea, I remember. I love that little girl so much she makes me crazy. My husband and I cannot believe some of the things we do for her. We laugh and mock one another. It’s fun, too. The part I am most surprised by is how much more I love him as I watch him be a Daddy. That might be one of my favorite parts.