It’s been a rough couple of weeks – hence the absence of any posts of substance, or even much in the way of posts at all.
Last week the sleeping situation was so bad that we both felt like we were hanging on by our fingernails. I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say it was one of the hardest parenting weeks we’ve had so far (ptuh ptuh – may they all be this easy, right?). That seems to be improving, though s-l-o-w-l-y.
Work is kicking my tail. I’ve been running a program I’m supposed to be just overseeing since I fired the fool on Halloween. So far I’ve offered the job to THREE people, who have all turned me down. And this is busy season. The to-do list gets longer, and I’m reluctant to work late (and too freakin’ tired to go in too early) because I refuse to give up time with my Roo.
Sigh. Bitch. Moan.
This is all normal and mundane stuff, but it’s occupying a lot of my brain space these days. The balance of my work and the rest of my life is getting harder to find instead of easier. I feel like I’m dropping balls all over the place.
Does it get easier ever?
In the meantime, I am thankful every day for Roo’s stinkin’ cuteness. It’s saving me, including those nights when he’s up every 20 minutes. He’s combat crawling and starting to push up onto his knees. He’s going to be crawling for real in the space of 2 weeks, I’m guessing, and then we’re in for it. At his checkup the other day he turned up in the 90th percentile for length and the 20th percentile for weight; my child is a string bean. These are clearly not our genes.
I love how proud he looks when he gets up on his knees, and his little gasp of delight when he spots the cat.
I’m totally manic these days. Maybe the long weekend I have coming up – in Florida! – will do the trick. It’s hard to sustain all this kvetching when my to-do list includes digging out my bathing suit from the bin in the basement.
ETA: Oh, and did I mention that I was diagnosed with “baby-wearing knee?” You think I’m kidding. My knee has been hurting for 6 months, and my doc finally figured out that it has to do with the way I’m bending when I have Roo in the carrier. So now I’m in physical therapy three times a week for a month (at least). Good grief. Can someone please help me come up with a credible story that involves a snowboard or something?