Twofer

I've got a couple things to write about today, so I'm actually going to write two separate posts just so that it isn't one giant one.

Yesterday morning was rough. After M's UTI and treatment, we were finally on the mend until the little dude decided that waking up once during the night to eat is now his new thing to do. I mean, I understand because he lost several days of full feeds while he was really sick. But on the other hand, momma is tired! Plus, O has a bit of a cold with a lovely cough so she wakes up doing that and/or starts her awful whine-cry thing and so I have to get up and comfort her with that. So I'm easily up at least twice a night, which makes me just so exhausted. Everyone says that I should get T involved and have him take one of the kids... But honestly, he never hears them. So even if we did make that deal, it would be me waking him up to go deal with the child and then I'm up anyway. It's somewhat of a pointless endeavour.

Back on to the topic at hand though. Yesterday, aside from the sleepies, was fine for the morning. Everything was as it normally was. Up until it wasn't. For some reason, around 1030am M decided that scream crying was how it was going to do things. It was potentially around a time that I thought he would want to eat, so I made him a bottle and settled down to give that to him. He wanted none of that. I changed his diaper, and he was still screaming. I had to ask O not to snuggle up beside me because I was on the cusp of a meltdown, and as it stands I did yell at M to stop screaming at some point because I just couldn't do it. But it was only that once, and I set him down several times when I felt the bad part coming over me. When I finally got a grasp on myself I just hugged him to me and had this stupid little mantra of "Stop stop stop stop stop".

I took him downstairs, hoping that the cool basement would do the trick (although honestly, our house yesterday didn't have much of a temperature difference with our central air going). No dice, still screaming. I laid him in his crib - in his bedroom - and left the room. It took about 20 minutes and he ended up screaming himself to sleep. He slept for about an hour, which gave me enough time to apologize profusely to O for snapping at her and to calm myself down. And then once he woke up, he was in a great mood.

We ended up going for a nice long walk afterwards, although O was disappointed we didn't stop at every single playground along the way. About half-way through our walk M pooped, and of course I didn't bring any diaper change stuff with me so we had to cut it short. Although, we were still gone for an hour and did about 3.5 miles. And then when we got back, M repeated the same screaming until he went down for a nap.

I guess I just haven't been reading his cues very well. Today I'm working harder to put him in his crib for naps (although he napped for an hour in his car seat this morning because we were on the go) and going forward I'm hoping we can transition him into his crib full time. I need my room back, and I need my evenings with my husband back. We realised yesterday that we haven't gone on a date since February, and even then it wasn't anything that we are really proud of - we went for lunch and did baby shopping. Oooooh so romantic. I'm hoping I can convince him that we should go to a VIP movie but we'll see.

More to the PPD point, though. I was able to calm down yesterday after one blip of overwhelmed, and for that I'm proud. I'm not proud that I screamed at my infant and made him cry harder, but I'm proud that I was able to get my shit under control so it didn't happen again. Small victories.