Here's the scoop. My chest hurts bad and I've had a headache for ten days straight. And secretly (or not-so-secretively), I've felt like scanning the 'want ads' for some willing couple in search of a six week-old baby boy. And an ornery two year-old. Because, holy hell. I can only handle so much. And then I can handle no more.
Like yesterday when I called my angel mother in a hormonal, postpartum rampage. I'm pretty certain all she could understand between heaves and sobs is high-pitched me screaming, 'I'm so tired!' and 'I need you to come r-i-g-h-t now!' and 'I can't do this anymore!!!!!'
It's days like today (following horrible days like yesterday), that I feel extra grateful for my mother. And maybe a little for motherhood.
Mildred Vermont said, "Being a full-time mother is one of the highest paying jobs in my field since the payment is pure love."
I guess pure love also equates to dealing with hysterics and hungry tummies and impossible burps and loads of poop.
Either way, I'm happy to say that after Mr. Keller came home last night (an hour late, mind you), he sent me straight to bed.
I'm also ecstatic to report that even though the haze from yesterday has cleared a little, my mother is on her way here to save us all. Heaven knows we need her.
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Yesterday, I'm pretty sure I thought the world was ending, when really all I needed was a nap.
One long-ass nap.
Hang in there! Hormones (and a lack of sleep) can make us all a little manic at times. And just remember that when your boys are five and three and best buds, you'll be so glad you did this (though you probably aren't looking for annoying "big-picture perspective" right now, I'm here to give it to you). :)
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