was going to be the name of this blog, but I liked the rhythm of DaisyBones better. “& Demons” would have been appropriate for raising a toddler, though. (When is she officially a toddler? I feel like she started her Terrible Twos at 11 months.) Some days it’s daisies, and then there are 24 hours like this one.
Today was a hard day. A crying in the bathroom at work and in the storage room while I pumped. A bags under eyes exhausted day. The Birdy was inconsolable last night from about 11 p.m. until 2:30 a.m. and I still don’t have any idea what was wrong. She wouldn’t use a teether and wasn’t biting (for once) at the breast. She never passed any gas, she had no fever, no sick belly. When she finally crashed we repeated the insane back-arching shrieking crying fit again a couple of times until she slept through 7-9 a.m. I slept in until 9 and went in late.
I can deal with a one year old and the attending chaos, but I was having serious doubts this morning about whether Bu can . Things were palpably tense between us on the way to work and it stayed with me all day. (We’re fine now after bonding over his rum and snuggling to watch a little bit of TV.) He keeps telling me how much better he is with the 4+ crowd than babies, and I keep hoping that’s true. I know some people have “baby” dispositions. I do- I can roll with the shit splatters & ear piercing squeals, but I know it’s harder for him. It’s so fucking frustrating that I’m working out of the home while he’s here with her. We’re looking into other options but I’m terrified to jinx the very vague plans by detailing them here, not that there’s much to tell. I doubt I’ll be able to work from home full time anytime soon, but something’s got to change.
So now she’s crashed, and I’m wide awake. Beautiful.