My first week as a stay at home mom of two little ones has come to an end.
I'm extra thankful for the visits and meals brought to us by friends this week...if not for them, I can't guarantee we wouldn't have been eating Cheerios doused in past-the-expiry date-almost-rotten milk for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Instead we've been spoiled with a variety of dishes--so if nothing else, our bellies are kept full.
I end the week with mixed feelings.
On one side, I feel successful. We' re all alive. My toddler got bathed daily ( the newborn's sponge bath has been put off two nights in a row now--but who's counting?), my husband's lunches got packed ( although he had to fend for breakfast himself--Cheerios and milk, anyone?) and the baby slept the days through like an angel, despite sharing her rock-n-play with various "gifts" from Sal (matchbox cars, money & slobbery,heavy lipped kisses on the mouth) when I turned my back for a few. I managed a shower four days out of five (high fiving myself now), but rarely changed out of pajamas and hoodies.
That's a win, right?
But, along with the success of keeping everyone alive, there were challenges that almost broke me. The biggest one being rotten behavior from my toddler anytime the baby had my attention. I had an arsenal of activities for us to do together while I nursed. Puzzles, counting money ( he got a cash register with plastic coins for his birthday), playdoh, lacing boards, stacking blocks, books and my iPad were amongst my efforts. Instead, he chose to lay behind me and kick and flip and hit my back as I nursed. That's way more fun, right? If I held his sister, he too wanted up. The quote of the week was "all done" and I'd hear it 100x a day, or anytime I touched his sister. Naps were brutal, and by Thursday I gave up even trying. It wasn't worth the two hours of battle. I know he is young and still needs them, but I just gave up. Instead we've watched "Toy Story" more times than I'd like to admit.
Movies and " resting" on the couch is better than nothing.
I feel like I'm failing my son.
It breaks my heart.
I spent Thursday afternoon in tears, wondering how I am going to fix the situation. I have been trying my best to spend Carla's sleeping hours engaging in play or snuggles with him, but he often likes to play alone, and I don't want to smother him either. We did some big kid projects ( valentine garland & baking a cake) together. I want him to feel the normalcy and comfort of the home and mama he has known. I keep telling myself that this is just a season.
It will pass.
He will feel my love.
But man, does it ever pull at my heartstrings.