Parenthood: When You Think Your Life Is Over

The first three months of Jack’s life were the worst three of mine.  Because I was the one with the boobs and without a job, I had to wake up every 2 hours of my life.  I didn’t have postpartum depression.  I had postpartum exhaustion. When the nurse left me alone in my hospital room with Jack, I had a total panic attack.  I didn’t know how to breastfeed, soothe, or even hold my baby.  I didn’t know I was supposed to be changing him (I assumed they were doing that).  I didn’t know ANYTHING.  In that moment, with my husband passed out on the couch, I felt so alone.  It was seriously terrifying.  A week later, my mom left and it was just me and Jack, every two hours, non-stop.  I remember thinking my life was over.  What had we done?  This was my life now.  It didn’t help that every day from four to seven, Jack would scream.  He just screamed his little heart out for no apparent reason.  The only thing that calmed him was being swaddled so tight he couldn’t budge and walked around the house briskly.  So, when I wasn’t sleeping, I was either nursing or bouncing around the house singing “You Are My Sunshine” in the happiest voice a walking dead person could muster. Continue reading

When Toddlers Attack

As I am writing this, my little angel dumplin’ is chillin’ in his crib, singing happy songs about how much he loves his mother because of my undying affection for him.  He is holding his Momo blankie and thinking of all the fun times he had with me today. Like when he threw that soup can at my head.  Or when he picked up a baseball bat and hit me as hard as he could.  Or, here is the best part, when he grabbed a glass bowl that I was eating from and hit me directly in the nose and I seriously thought it was broken.  His favorite part of the day, I’m sure, is laughing at me as I tried to get him to stay in “the time out corner”.  This escape from baby prison game is THE BEST!  You know how psychopaths on TV like to smile as they’re about to torture their victims?  Well, I think my baby might be a psychopath.  This brings me to a quick flashback story.  It’s the reason I’m here-in this amazing situation.  It’s the reason for my punishment. Continue reading

The Reasons I Cry

I cry all the time.  I’m not depressed.  I’m actually a pretty happy person.  Life hands me some lemons, but usually it’s all lemonade and smiles around here.  Show me a commercial with the perfect soundtrack and a well developed story line and I’ll show you an admiring consumer attempting to hold back the tears.  You know that really awkward scene in American Beauty?  Where weird guy next door describes the movement of a plastic bag floating around in the wind (pre-Katy Perry, thank you very much) and he starts crying at the beauty of it?  I was right there with him.  Yes, emo-stoner-guy!  Yes!  There is beauty in trash!  Normal isn’t beautiful!  Pain is in beauty and beauty is in PAIN! Continue reading