So I was all "doing the happy dance of joy"

And then last night happened. And I have no one to blame but myself.
We went to my Bible study group, which was fine. Philippa is going through a bit of a growth spurt (?) or something, so she now wants to feed all the time. Not a problem, if a bit uncomfortable unless we're at home, sitting in bed, with the pillows. So we come home, put Philippa in her bassinet, and get lunch for Charlotte. Clean Charlotte up, chuck her in the cot, then sit down for a cup of tea. What? It's only been an hour - why is Philippa crying?
Check the nappy - well okay, I'd not want to sleep in that either. Still crying. Up on the shoulder for some burping action. This baby can burp from either end like a grown man, but after 15 minutes, when my hand is going numb, nothing is produced. Okay. Still crying. Dummy? No freakin' way, Mum. Still crying. Okay, you win. Out comes the dairy, except that she is so frantic by now that she's all over the place and has trouble attaching. When she finally gets on, she just sucks weakly for a few minutes before dropping off to sleep, so I try to burp her again, but nothing happens. So I put her down, and 20 minutes later, repeat the whole process. I know that God chose me to be her mother, but yesterday was one of those days when I question whether he really meant to give her to someone else, because I'm such total crap at this. We went to the library last night, which is just what we do on Wednesdays, and as a result, didn't get home until almost 8pm. Which meant that dinner was at about 9pm, and with mess everywhere, Pippa screaming the neighbourhood down, me feeling pretty feral and unwashed, I just had sensory overload. I felt like I couldn't handle one more demand on any of my five senses. I didn't eat the dinner, because I just couldn't handle tasting the food. I didn't talk to Lachie, because I couldn't handle listening to anything else. I didn't read a book, because I couldn't handle looking at it. My brain was exploding. So he sent me upstairs for a bath and a shave, and I just put my ears under the water, to drown out everything else, and he held Philippa. I just needed to get away from everyone for 20 minutes. Seriously, I kept praying to God, and just begging Him to make her stop crying, because I was cracking up.
 
So, after about 2 hours of sleep last night (because Philippa wasn't the only child who woke up last night), I'm not sure if we're going to playtime today. On one hand, it would be good to be around other adults, but on the other hand, my bed looks pretty inviting. Although if Philippa is going to be crying, I'd rather leave her with other people, and since today is Mum's Day, we'll be in a room with adults only. 
 
So I guess it boils down to this:
Do I crack up because she's overstimulated and tired and crying all night, giving me obscenely small amounts of sleep?
 
or
 
Do I crack up because I'm trapped in the house all day every day with two small children?
 
Are there degrees of insanity? Which will make me less insane?
XOXO,
Sarah

Comments

Busybugz said…
How are you feeling today? Hope you're better. There are always ups and downs - cliche as this may sound - we Mums just hold on tight to this roller coaster ride of parenthood, having fun along the way and at the same time, trying not to scream or throw up! :P
August 8, 2008 at 10:19 AM
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