I'm totally drowning.
As I told Ryan last week (during the 27 tearful times I called him, gasping for air): I cannot do my life, a newborn AND Christmas. It's humanly impossible.
If I'd written this on Saturday (I should have, I'm always a little more amusing when I'm drowning in depression hormones--all extremes and superlatives), I would have told you how I
- had LOST it with Jane the night before,
- have lost 0 pounds in the last 4 weeks
- cannot deal with the discomfort of the girdle I bought to hold in my post-fifth-baby stomach "just for a few weeks until I can fit into my normal jeans without severe muffin top"
- am feeling more like a failure as a parent due to previously mentioned parenting classes and all the ways it shows me I suck. (Drill Sergeant, much?)
- have a husband whose perfection benefits yet totally EXHAUSTS me (especially in comparison to my less-than-perfect self)
- am feeling slightly suffocated by being the only feeder, the only person "who knows where the baby is in her schedule", the only person who can properly turn the blanket into a papoose.
- never want to attend a ward Christmas party again, as I spent the whole time on my feet (Ryan was the emcee) getting my kids food, rocking Faith and dragging Seth home to change after his "accident"
But it's Wednesday (and I am late for Cub Scouts as I finish this up) and I'm no longer swathed in despair.
I still didn't eat breakfast until 11:30 am today and I still have "do silhouettes" at the top of my to do list for the 6th day in a row (address/sign/fold Christmas letter are #2,3,4) and I still have the muffin top (ditched the girdle in favor of maternity pants) and I still marvel at how long it takes to simply sustain (feed, clothe, clean up after) my children.
But for today, I'll keep doing it...it's just not very easy.
And that's all I have to say.
Why I do what I do
...and I know the picture's too small.
I'm not waiting for Blogger to upload it again!
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