motherhood · postpartum

Don’t Touch Me!

Happy Valentine’s Day! Now, don’t touch me.

Today, I feel burnt out. Done. Toast. Pooped. Drained. I don’t know why- I was doing okay until this afternoon after repeated attempts to get this kid to sleep on his own and actually get some “me” time to get things done.

I woke up at 8:30 with the intent to snooze until 9. But I was wired. In a sleep deprived, going to foggy eyed not be able to ever sleep again way. So I successfully creeped out of bed and left the kid laying in a pillow fort so he maybe would have to overcome a pillow mountain to roll off the bed.

I got my day started but the Keurig was broken so no coffee. Fail number one. I popped some baby cold medicine because I’m fighting off the winter cold that everyone seems to be passing around. Ate a granola bar. Sat at the computer and got a couple of emails sent. Then I realized that the kid was still sleeping and I probably should get dressed while I had free hands. 9:15am.

I washed my face and then the crying started. Dang it. So I tried to convince Baby J that it wasn’t actually morning by tricking him into thinking that I was still asleep. I quickly hopped into bed, nursed him, and closed my eyes. He batted at my face. “Wake up, mom!” I held his hand and gently shhh’d. Come on, you need more sleep, kiddo!

This went on for what felt like years. He grabbed my nose so hard and pulled that he broke skin. Baby nails are like vicious daggers. Every time I opened my fake-sleeping eyes to check if he was asleep, he was glaring back at me. He knew. Then I heard his butt explode. And I knew.

We were up for the day. So I spent an hour cleaning up poop including an unexpected bath for the kid (and a worry about how much poop he must have consumed because there was poop on his face- oh my gosh- while I got the bath ready and left him on the floor with nothing but baby wipes and a changing pad). So we’re there now, I see. I got the changing pad and accompanying laundry items into the washing machine while he played in his crib.

Grandma sent a Baby Einstein Sea Dreams Soother for the crib that he never sleeps in. Because she bought the crib and wants to know when her precious grandbaby will use it. Never, grandma, never. When they say soother, they lie. It just excited my kid to creep and crawl all over the crib. I took those moments of his bliss to quickly throw makeup on my face and put yoga pants on (because you can’t wear the same yoga pants you slept in ALL day too). And when I sat down to get some work done before an 11am call, hoping to the dear Lord above that the kid might play himself to sleep, the wailing started.

Fast forward through a 20-minute nap in the car before I got the husband a very last minute, picked-over-at-Target card for “love day.” I nursed Baby J in the car because he kept screaming. It didn’t help. So we got home and the purple bags under his eyes (and probably mine) told me he needed more sleep before the babysitter came tonight (praise God for the babysitter!). I nursed him. He seemed relaxed, maybe he’d fall asleep on his own.

I sat him in the crib and turned that soother-turned-exciter on. And he played in his crib for 15 minutes while I wrote out that Valentine’s card to the man that created this dinosaur baby. Then started wailing. I nursed again, until he fell asleep this time. One more attempt in the crib. No go.

I tried the swing. I finished writing out the husband’s card and put the poop clothes in the dryer. Yay! Maybe I got an email out. Crying. Me and the kid. I pleaded with him to just go to sleep in the swing. I needed some time away- like sitting in the chair across from him NOT being touched and dreaming of beaches in Mexico away. No go.

So now I’m holding him while he’s fast asleep wondering when, if ever, I will get a few moments of not being touched. The anxiety in my belly tells me that tonight’s babysitter expense is so worth it to have a date night with my husband and get away.

But do you think he’ll be okay if the Valentine’s order of the day is look, but no touch.


4 thoughts on “Don’t Touch Me!

  1. This brings back memories of me with my first. He slept on me for all naps for a whole year. It was suffocating and so frustrating. Sometimes I think back and think we should have done more, but he was high needs and we did our best. As we do.


      1. I don’t recommend it!! My husband was home with him for a year after I went back to work and he slept trained him for naps. Now (at 2) he naps for up to 3 hours on his own. I wish I had had that time to myself, But I couldn’t follow through on the whole cio thing – not during the day when i was with him.


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