Running on Fumes

At my regular OB appointment yesterday I mentioned that having attended the Seahawks game on Sunday may have been overdoing it and I was feeling the consequences.  (I didn’t mention that the one-two punch of the Nationals loss on Friday followed by the Patriots loss on Sunday had done some serious emotional damage to me as well.  #bullmoosecurse)  My doctor said I needed to slow down and focus on work and growing a baby.  You can see where there might be some fault in her logic – one adorable 20 month old named LC.

I went to bed last night, knowing I needed to stop doing more than what was necessary and ready to get up and face the rest of the week.  By noon today, I was miserable.  Day care drop off had gone poorly and I ended up barely making it out of the room, leaving LC sobbing for Momma, before I too began to cry, feeling awful about the latest phase of separation anxiety.  I went to have a delicious biscuit sandwich at Serious Biscuit to try to take some of the edge off, only to have them screw up my biscuit order.  Two meetings later and my back was killing me and it was only 1pm.

By bedtime tonight, I was tired and just willing LC to go to sleep.  All she wanted to do was cuddle, which just wasn’t compatible with how uncomfortable I was feeling.  I kept trying to explain to her she could either sit still or go to bed, but she’s 20 months old and of course doesn’t understand.  After cuddling and rocking for a while, I put her, asleep, into her crib.  And felt horrific.  My little toddler daughter just wanted to snuggle before bed and I was putting limits and restrictions on her,  telling her I didn’t want to cuddle if she was going to fidget.  Its not that I didn’t want to cuddle, I just could not physically take the toddler knees in my gut much longer.  But it made me feel like such a terrible mother.

I just didn’t have that much to give tonight and by bedtime I was on fumes.  I worry that in the next 9 weeks I will have less and less to give – to LC, to my job, to A, to the house.  I hate using being pregnant as an excuse – there are things that need to be done over the next 9 weeks and I just can’t decide to bow out.  Some of them are things like cuddling my daughter before she goes to bed, others are ensuring contracts get reviewed and signed or making sure that the milk delivery order gets in on time each week.  But I also need to ensure that I am being fair to the littlest of our family, BE2 and that there is something left for her to give each day.  I have no idea how to find the balance and I know there will be times when LC needs something extra or I have to put an extra hour in at night to finish up something for work, but in order to make it through the next (hopefully) 9 weeks, I know I need to reexamine how my energy is allotted and hope that is all balances out in the end.



  1. Grandma Dede says:

    Don’t forget that there is a currently unemployed grandma that would be happy to come out and offer some LC and household relief.

  2. I remember “The End”. Joe was in school three nights a week and gone all weekend for training. I was doing Matthew, the house and my job all alone. I used to let him lay in my bed and we would watch “Cake Boss” together and I would correct papers. He always fell asleep (I guess Buddy is boring), but that is how we got through our long nights alone. He got his cuddle time, I got my work done, and we both go our cuddle time. The bathtub ring didn’t go away until after Molly was born. Something had to give! Ha ha ha.

    • Washington Woman says:

      It certainly isn’t easy! Luckily A was only away for two days, so things are more manageable right now. LC isn’t much of a big bed cuddler – I wish she were, I’d just let her sleep with me whenever A was away. Household chores are definitely low on my list right now, especially anything that requires me to bend over which is no longer possible

  3. Dear Lauren,
    At times like this I find comfort in the wisdom of “Shakespeare in Love”;
    Philip Henslowe: Mr. Fennyman, allow me to explain about the theatre business. The natural condition is one of insurmountable obstacles on the road to imminent disaster.
    Hugh Fennyman: So what do we do?
    Philip Henslowe: Nothing. Strangely enough, it all turns out well.
    Hugh Fennyman: How?
    Philip Henslowe: I don’t know. It’s a mystery

    But for me it’s no mystery.. You’ll do great I have faith in you. You and Andrew will make it all work out;
    Love Granddad Mark
    PS and of course Grandma Dede’s bags are packed!

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