Wednesday, 12 September 2007

where does the time go...

It is proving difficult to find blogging time right now. Mostly I blame Wil.

Yeah, it's all Wil's fault, as Amy would say.

My delightful happy calm baby has spent the last week or two reminding me that babies are evil and only people with a death wish and no self esteem have them.

We've had lots of screaming and sleeplessness and bottomless appetites and I have been stricken with the devil child's bedfellow, demented mother syndrome. I seem to have lost entire days of my life considering the endless list of possible causes and remedies to what ails him including but not limited to

too much food
not enough food
food at the wrong time
the wrong kind of food
gluten intolerance
bad genes
too much burping
not enough burping
a (symptomless) cold
growth spurt
poor sleep routines
poor breast milk supply
ear ache
possession

And what really shits me about these bursts of hell, quite aside from the way they consume so much freaking time and plunge me into exhausted depression, is the way I oscillate between thinking it is my job to rise above it and feeling like it is my job to fix it. I just can't stand the indecision. The way I devote all this time and intellectual energy shoring up one argument - it's a phase, don't worry about it, it will pass, the biggest mistake I can make is getting myself all tied up over it - only to be struck by the conviction that there is something quite obviously wrong - he's not normally like this, he's just started on wheat and all this bloating and gas is a classic sign of gluten intolerance, he keeps tipping his head to one side and his nose is running so surely he has an ear ache, he's not normally like this.

And it goes on and on and I begin to lose track of the days and exactly how long he's been insufferable and how much sleep I should be expecting (for me as well as him) and how many times I've contemplated calling the doctor and whether I'm making a rod for my back by letting him into the bed and how long it has been since I've read a blog, let alone posted on one and why it is wrong to sleep on a flimsy bit of foam on the living room floor because the bed seems like a cruel joke. And keeping a semblance of order and reasonable food provisions in the house seems entirely beyond me and I can't remember what you are supposed to feed babies aside from zucchini and pear (especially if they fart and seem to get gut aches all the time).

And then one morning I wake up and Wil is lying there looking at me without screaming at all and he goes off to his first day at childcare without me and he eats and plays and sleeps without screaming (though the farts apparently continue) and when I arrive to pick him up he smiles sweetly at me and goes back to what he was doing so I go off for another hour and he's still happy when I come back.

So what the heck does that all mean? And more importantly should I even be asking the question because most surely there is no answer to it anyway.

So I'm conscious that these endless ruminations about the minutiae of baby life are in fact deadly boring. For me as well as you. And yet here I am, sucked into the vortex in such an all way that if I wasn't writing about it, I wouldn't be writing. I am kind of shocked to find myself so much less robust than I thought in the face of it all, so quickly sinking without a trace.

Perhaps I can post about it today because it is passing. My shock and Wil's demons.

I've been snatching moments to sew, but progress has been murderously slow. And boy that's frustrating too.

Building works have been equally snail paced. Poor D is drowning under a heavy workload and an endless to do list at home. I do my best to occupy the youngsters out of the house each Sunday to let him get on with it but that's wearing a bit thin for me too. We're tired.

I know, I know, like der fred.

But thrilled with the glass wall in the shower, thrilled to have a working shower for the first time in so very long. I have plans for the view, but hey will have to wait a little while yet I am afraid.

And speaking of plans, it's spring and gardening time. At the moment we've got a lot of compacted, sad dirt and remnants of old backyard, not to mention building materials and all kinds of trash. We've also got bugger all time. Not a combination likely to produce the lush playground and fertile crops we'd like. I'm trying to content myself with some long range planning and a vivid imagination.

And some crochet. No photos, sorry. Soon. Maybe.

If he sleeps.

13 comments:

Ali said...

Your words bring it back all too vividly. Keep chanting 'this too shall pass, this too shall pass'

Awesome shower!

merrilymerrily said...

"deathly boring"? Not the way YOU write it, if anything it's a little uncomfortable as I'm wrenched back into another time I no longer like to think about. But it happened, and to pretending it didn't would allow me to be dulled to the pain of those going through it. If 'everyone else' seems to cope better, chances are everyone else is lying. Not cynical am I?

kt said...

Oh yes, the unhappy babe syndrome. We had a colicky one and I, too, wondered what I was:
a. doing wrong
b. forgetting to do
c. trying to pull pretending I know haw to care for a baby.

Ali's right, it'll slowly get better. Wish that there was some way we could speed up the tough prts and stretch out the good ones for you.

Sending good thoughts and love from way over here. Have a nice long shower and look out your window and see what you want to see there. It'll come!

Jodie said...

Oh I remember...... You know it will pass but god it feels like an eternity doesn't it.

:: melissa :: said...

Benjamin, now almost ten months, was like that about three months back - yelling, screaming, refusing to sleep unless he was in our bed, hating daddy and only wanting mummy, being such a turd for no good reason other than that he could. And when we took him into town, he was charming - smiling at people, laughing, a perfect baby, but the minute we got home his attitude problem would come back. I felt like such a failure (doesn't help that my mother in law tells me I'm a bad mother - she's a nasty piece of work!) But he got right, from one day to the next. He doesn't have as many hissy fits, sleeps in his own bed and doesn't have to be my siamese twin. He's so lucky I didn't adopt him out!

melindatrees said...

mmm taihen da ne (japanese for its hard isnt it).one day its gonna get better.thats all i can think of :-/
and has will tried avocado? hana loved zucchini and avocado too....
your plate of felafel? looks yum.

Alison said...

Some days I want to scream.
Some days I do scream.
Some days I don't really care if neither child gets fed.
Some days I will take myself off to another room and cry.
Some days I will walk down the street and people will think I am evil because I have the Death Look on my face.

Some days you are very much not alone.
xxx

Lesley said...

It really does pass very quickly - my collicky screamer is 8 in November but I remember that desperate feeling like yesterday. He used to scream all afternoon until I was in bits and then Daddy would walk in and it would be all smiles :p Keep strong and you will soon have your head back all to yourself xx

Anonymous said...

Hello, I'm de-lurking. I remember too well when my son, who was only eight weeks old,cried constantly from 11-00 am to 11-oo pm at night. All I could do was hold him. It went on for two weeks. I got onto a mother's help group and was able get wonderful support from a trained counsellor, who had some great advice. I had started him on formula from breast milk and didn't do it gradually.He had bad colic. We got there. All the best. Angela

sue said...

Oh I can totally relate to the sleepless nights. We have had them here too with a 6 yr old and chickenpox. I remember when my daughter was a baby and she was lactose intolerance, and used to scream all afternoon and night. They finally decided at 8 months of age what was wrong with her, and she calmed down quite a lot after that. Now she drinks lots of milk and cheese but I have been told that around puberty she could get those symptoms back. I hope Wil stays your happy little guy so you can feel more 'normal' and get some much needed rest.

Amanda Edwards said...

Isn't it nice to know that we are all suffering together? My little boy is driving me nuts too. I had thought he was going to be the quiet "good" child. So wrong. What was I thinking, he is a BOY after all!

Kim said...

I've decided for me, the one who scored 10/10 for being analytical in one of those work profiling thingies, is to not analyse it anymore. A good day is a good day. A bad one is bad. A good moment is a moment to be breathed in as oxygen for getting through the grind of the mind-numbingly inexplicable hours and hours and hours that follow.
And what I've learnt from that is that they do that inately. Just take each day as it is. Just take me as I am, be it tired, cranky, unkempt, baffled or melancholy. So keep sewing, keep finding time to draw pictures of how it will be and most of all, be kind to you.

kneek said...

Your brilliance continues to dazzle me. Ranting about baby and parenting woes is never boring, especially since there is so little honesty around about the realities of parenting. Keep ranting! I hope the farting eases up for your sake and for Will's sake.