I'm glad it's February. Kathleen was 3 weeks old yesterday, and as I told her, only 49 weeks til her first birthday! Three weeks and 17 years until she's 18! It's true, I spend my life wishing it all away.
You all have no idea how much it helps me to hear that you all sleep in chairs too.
Kathleen is definitely fussy. This terrifies me because Joseph was colicky, for no physical reason, until he was 16 weeks old, which was a hell of a long time. I really hoped and prayed that we wouldn't have a colicky baby this time but I think we got one. And I don't know if I'm up to it again. I'm almost 40, as I told Kathleen this morning. I feel old and tired and scared of the next several weeks.
Tonight I had mashed potatoes and bread and butter for dinner. I kind of thought maybe Todd would go get us something. I have literally held that baby all day. ALL DAY. So at 6:15 I said "what do you want to do for dinner?" and he said "I don't really feel like anything, do you?". Sigh. No. No I guess not. Nursing doesn't make me hungry or thirsty, I don't have to eat or drink or go to the bathroom, ever. I was just checking. So then he offered to go and get anything and came up with all sorts of good-sounding ideas but I am nothing if not a freaking grudge holder so I said NO. It's FINE, I said. I'll have LEFTOVER MASHED POTATOES. FINE. I showed him.
No nap for Joseph today so at least he'll go to bed soon and then I can too maybe. For a while, and then it's off to the chair with me!
My sister said she was going to come over tonight after church and have dinner and even though I somewhat dread people coming over, I was looking forward to seeing someone. But then she called and said she wasn't coming. I was unreasonably unhappy about it, as I said, I don't really want anyone to come over but ... I sort of do, too.
Well, now it's Monday, I have been writing this for days! Today is a not bad day, Kathleen slept okay last night although she will not lie down in her bassinet after her first sleep. Oh well. It will come, I guess. I have been thinking about breastfeeding a lot, since it seems like that's all I do. I keep meaning to pump and get some bottles together for when we (hopefully) can start giving her bottles but I just don't want to pump! I know it's only like ten minutes but I just hate it and since there's no instant gratification involved with it, since we don't give her bottles yet, I just think eff it. But I'm going to be sorry when I have no backup milk and can't go anywhere here soon.
But on breastfeeding - I sort of hate it, especially in the beginning. Her head is so floppy I have to hold her head and I also have to hold my ginormous breast and then since I have no hands left I have to lie her down on a pillow, and it just seems like such a pain! She almost always falls asleep and then I have to feel guilty about tickling her foot or something to get her to wake up and nurse. They're always so rough on them in the hospital, I think, those lactation consultant people? "Wake up!" she yelled at Kathleen, and sort of whacked her foot. My first reaction was to whack the LC in the head - I mean, she was like 3 days old! Anyway, I do it but I don't love it. I love that it's good for them and I love that it's pretty simple, especially in the night. But I don't love the gigantic breasts, or the nursing bra that I wear 23 hours and 45 minutes a day, and the fact that it's only me that can feed her right now. I don't love that I'm not a good public nurser, I'm so jealous of women that seem so good at it. I hate that I feel like I have ONE MORE THING to not be too good at, motherhood wise.
Anyway. Todd's been holding her for a while and I should go switch it up. I'm so glad it's February, that she'll be one month old this month. Soon. And then she'll be five and then eighteen! ;)