Monday, August 4, 2008


I hate to talk (and think) so much about sleep but man, Kathleen is throwing me for a loop. I am breaking out the Weisbluth because I am confounded. She nurses at night as often as she nurses in the day, except for one long (?) stretch between, say, 6:00 and 11:00. Five hours is as long as she goes, and she is almost seven months old and weighs like 18 pounds. The rest of the night she nurses every three hours, and then gets up for the day at like 7:00.

In other news, she used to take a bottle and now she has stopped. I get sort of filled with dread when I think of breastfeeding for the next five months or so. I am a bad breastfeeder, but it's just so surprising how much I ... well, I don't want to say I hate it but man, I do not love it. I don't think it's a great bonding thing for me and mine, I just - I feel like it's a good way to get milk into them and I'm glad it works for me but beyond that, I am not feeling the love.

Joseph has been up in the night lately too. I have read that kids with a_utism can have trouble sleeping and he sure does. I mean, I have friends whose kids sleep like crap too and they're not a_utistic so who knows? But the last several days he has been up *early*, like before 5:00 and then he is wretched - HORRIBLE - in the afternoon and I feel like I just want to run, run away and not come back. He is in school and it's going well but I almost wish he was in the afternoon program there because at least then THEY could have him when he is freaking out every two seconds.

Sometimes I am with the baby, nursing or whatever, and Joseph is pulling at my hands and asking for food that he can't have (I curse you, fruit rollups) and starting a tantrum and I think "no. I can't do it again. I can't protect the baby so that his flailing hands don't hit her and I can't listen to him scream anymore and I can't have him whacking me in the legs and I just - I can't. I can't do this job anymore". My husband calls and asks how it's going and I can't even talk, I can't say anything without crying. He sighs and says he will be home as soon as he can. I feel guilty and awful for being so bad at this job and so mad at Joseph for being so crazy.

And then? Then dinner time comes and bedtime comes and we watch reality television or something or I read a book that I like or go for a long walk or work out or whatever and I feel better and I start it again the next day. This is the craziest freaking job I have ever had in my life - I don't know how I am supposed to do it for 90 billion more years or whatever it will be until they get the hell out of my house.

I do not love that John and Kate and their eight or whatever but yesterday I caught a little bit of one and she was saying over and over "I can get through this day, I can get through this day" and that's what I've been doing lately. That and trying not to JUDGE my situation so much. I would be kinder to a ... well to anyone than I am to myself, with the judging.

I have no idea how to wrap this up, I started it weeks ago. Um... things will get better? Joseph will maybe start to do better in school and talk more and get less frustrated? Kathleen will start to sleep better? This too shall pass? I would like to drink a bottle of wine tonight? Hmmm. Maybe that's it!

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