Wherein I Have Not Much Good To Say...

I feel like I don't really have much good to say, but I need to let this out. I know I'm so lucky to have such a lovely family, and a considerate husband, and a bright & clever toddler, and a sweet, sweet baby. But. But.

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There's nothing "Wrong", per se. But I feel awful, and unfortunately, it's not in a physical way. I'm cranky, and tired, and irritable, and I've been on the verge of tears for two days now. I'm yelling at Am because she doesn't listen (seriously - why does it need to take 10 requests & 20 minutes to put on pants? Why does it take more than twice as long on days when I've allowed double the time?)*, then I'm mad at Am for having to yell at her, while I'm trying to feed Eleni (it does start off as a request - put that down, please. Put that down, please. PUT THAT DOWN NOW!), then I'm feeling bad for Eleni, who is not getting to nurse & bond with a calm, collected mother, and is getting negative energy. It's got to be stressful to have someone yelling over top of you when you're trying to eat. Then I feel guilty because Amoryn is two & a half, and she's really fantastic overall, and I shouldn't yell at her. Nobody deserves a mean mom.

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Then Amoryn takes another dvd out of its case and I yell at her again.

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I feel like there's no winning. Am isn't particularly acting out because of her sister; this is pretty standard Amoryn fare. I don't even think she's actively seeking negative attention - she's just reached a new stage where she's sure that she knows how everything works. Like, with the DVDs, if she takes one out of its case, and just spins it around on something long enough or fast enough or with the right amount of pressure, Nemo or Wall-E will appear**. I've been explaining that that's not what will happen; that scraping DVDs will destroy them, and I'm no longer impressed that Am is trying to apply logic to things. I'm yelling at her to leave the things alone.

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I know that when Am is sleeping, or at one of her two daycare days, I should be trying to take it easy & nap quietly with Eleni. But there's things like dental appointments, & chiropractors, and other random items that go from being an "errand" to being a Geneva-convention approved form of torture***, with the addition of a mobile toddler. And honestly, I feel so wound these days that even when I try to nap, I can't.

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I'm also incredibly envious of the man - he can eat what & when he wants, drink what he wants, sleep pretty much as much as he wants, and he gets to leave the house All By Himself, For As Long As He Needs To. I'm trying not to let that envy simmer into rage, but I tell you, the Grey Cup is not helping matters. True, we got a used jogging stroller that I can put both girls in, so I can get some physical exercise, but I still feel pretty damn trapped. And he looks like a pretty free bird, flitting off to work, then yoga, then Costco. Envy.

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I miss milk, and cheese, and yogurt. I've established that Eleni is not cool with the proteins in either cow's milk or soy, so I'm trying to figure out a new diet. I'll try cautiously reintroducing cheese, yogurt, & boiled milk gradually in a couple days, but I'm still letting things (namely Eleni's tender digestive tract) settle out before I go throwing more items into the calculations.

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I told the man the other night that I need to have some fun. "So what do you want to do?" I had no idea. None. Nada. Zip.

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I know what I want - I want to sleep for at least 6 mazillion hours in a row. I want Amoryn to listen to me so that I don't have to shriek at her. (She doesn't even have to listen the first time. Just as long as it's before shrieking, and she listens the first time on important things like "this is a parking lot with cars, you need to stay right here".) I'd like it if Eleni quit spitting entire feeds of milk on me - although I know that's to do with the cow's milk/soy issues, so that should actually come true. I'd like it if my old pants fit****, so I didn't have to go buy new ones, or continue wearing maternity pants. I'd really like it if that niggling sinking sensation went away - that sensation that the Deep Dark Pool of Depression is creeping it's way up my toes, onto my feet. (Whether it's winter or post-partum, depression is something I've tangled with before & have no desire to ever go near again.)

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Sigh. I know that it's Not Really That Bad, and I'll Feel Better With More Sleep, and Really, I'm Really Lucky. But right now I want a long nap, a big glass of milk, and a hug; and I know what the odds on all of those things are at this moment.

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I'm going to go do some more laundry. And have a cup of (herbal) tea with a (homemade) cookie.

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*This is simply the first conflict of the day, not the biggest, or most serious.

**This, or some other similar toddler logic, happens more that I can tell you.

***It must be; although I tell you, with the right toddler & the wrong line-up, you could break many a strong man.

****I can actually put some of them on - provided I don't mind: a) spending ten minutes hopping into them, b) feeling like 10 pounds of sausage in a 5 pound casing, c) losing the sensation in my legs because they're so m-f tight, and d) having to spend another 10 minutes peeling them off. And I'm not lamenting my current shape at all - I just want the pants problem to be magically solved.