I kind of gave up today, or rather, I took a day off.
Felicity is seven weeks old today and has had a few really frustrating days. It's the usual new baby stuff - fussing for hours, not really wanting to go to sleep but being so tired, not nursing effectively. Of course all of this causes two tired parents to not be at their best as well and Ian and I ended up snapping at each other last night. We don't usually fight and of course apologized in quick order, but it still feels like some sort of betrayal.
Ian and I made a tentative schedule last week and split up the household chores as best we could. This was on my initiative as I felt the apartment constantly spiraling towards chaos and felt bad that Ian ends up doing most of the housework, just like when I was really pregnant and legitimately couldn't do a whole lot. Now that I can walk and kneel and lift (hurray for reaching six weeks postpartum!) and am not working, it feels like I should have all the time in the world to get things in order.
But that's the thing - when Flick is awake and happy, I want to play with her and help her little developing mind. Today I read her three Dr. Suess books and she smiled and cooed for at least fifteen minutes straight: heaven to me. She enjoys being sung to and talked to, and is growing so fast. And of course she wants to eat a lot. Nursing hasn't been completely smooth, but we're on a pretty good track now. My breasts don't seem to be producing quite as much as they did, so she's eating more often and for longer periods of time. Again, this is okay but is time consuming. And then the fussies! I'm usually good at guessing what she wants, but sometimes nothing will satisfy, or she won't sleep for hours and I (or Ian and I, if he's home) will pull our hair out trying to help her find happiness, all while trying to remain calm and a source of comfort instead of further stress for her.
So when she's sleeping, I don't want to cook or clean or work on my schoolwork. I want to sleep or work on my craft project (hey, at least it's something) or read or watch a show or just spend a ridiculous amount of time on facebook. So that's what I did today. I decided not to do anything. My two accomplishments: I took a shower and watched an online slideshow of baby poop.
Ian came home to a frazzled lump of a wife with his lunch today. He helped straighten the living room and gave me a big hug and a kiss, and returned to work. I've been here all day, and even though it's on my chores list to get the kitchen spotless before bed every night and today was supposed to be laundry day, I've sat all day with the baby on the couch. I just can't make myself do anything. I'm tired and lonely and feel guilty that Ian has to come home to this apartment and a fussy me when he's been at work for fourteen hours (he normally isn't gone so long but he had a special dinner tonight for the fellowship).
Maybe I just need to leave the apartment, only now it's almost 10:00 pm and Felicity is asleep in her bed (this is good, at least).
I really hope this is a one-day sort of terrible black cloud and that tomorrow I will be back to my normal, only somewhat-sulky self.
