There are some days that my mind is fried but my body wills it to do what it needs to do.
Other days when my body is falling apart but my mind wills it to do what it needs to do.
The past few days have been the worst kind of combination: where both my mind and my body have seemingly given up on me, and neither is willing to will me to do anything.
When I first went back to work, 4 weeks postpartum, everyone was shocked and I couldn't figure out why. My baby was a good sleeper (or at least working on it), a champ eater (hellooo rolls!) and an overall perfect baby. I thought I had everything figured out. He would eat, sleep, poop, repeat on a fairly consistent, rhythmic basis. Last year I never once second guessed going back to work because it almost seemed easy. The only "difficult" part was figuring out a pumping schedule once Baby D decided not to nurse anymore.
Its frustrating. Even though he is now more mobile, entertaining and overall wonderful, this teething thing (or so I keep telling myself... I have yet to see a tooth make its appearance) is throwing us all for a loop. Sleeping is erratic at best and I have never met a child who balked so strongly at a bottle. You wouldn't know it by looking at him, but Baby D is not drinking well. Eating solids has become a bit easier, but for some reason you put that bottle in his mouth and he spits it out like you're feeding him poison. Whaaat?!
In a nutshell, I'm not sleeping well. I'm not eating well and my health is suffering. I'm worrying about my "starving" child 24/7. And my body is taking the brunt of it. I can't even imagine running a race the day after tomorrow. But I am, thankfully with Surah, who will hopefully keep our time on track (and not too embarassingly slow). And its only a 5k.
Mr. D has been amazing and so patient with me. Hopefully this funk of mine will be over soon and we can all return to "normal"
whatever that is.
Especially Mr. D.