What an interesting weekend this has been!  We spent all day running around yesterday between my great uncle’s 80th birthday party and memorial day cookouts with the family.  We ended the evening by refereeing a fight between some friends before heading home late and battling another sleepless night with the teething little one.  I’ll be happy to see these nights come to an end even if it is for a few days/weeks/months/who knows how long, but I do love seeing those little pearly whites when she grins now.

This is yet another milestone that makes me sad and happy at the same time.  Today I was breastfeeding her and thinking about how happy I am that we’ve made it this far in the breastfeeding battle.  I know she’ll be weaning before I know it, and in a way that makes me sad, too.  I’ll be able to lose weight fast compared to the rate at which I’m losing it now. I’ll finally have my body back without a little one hanging off me every couple hours to eat, so I should be happy about that right? Of course not because I’m totally going to miss the bonding time we have together while she’s eating.

Honestly I used to think I’d be lucky if I could make it 6 months.  Then we got closer to the 6 month mark, and I started thinking about how awesome it is that we’ll make it to a year provided she doesn’t decide to self wean before that, but I don’t see that happening.  This child loves the boobie way too much to foresee that.  I used to think it was weird and awkward to breastfeed past a year old, but now I find myself wondering just how old she’ll be before we cut out the night time sessions…16 months…18 months?  Who knows.  I’ve had women tell me that breastfeeding just felt awkward to them, and they wanted their body back.  To me it feels so natural that I don’t understand how some women could feel that way.

Am I a bad mother for wanting my husband to step up and help me with the sleep situation?  I admit some nights I just totally want a break.  Of course it makes me feel like crap for even feeling that way in the first place, but I know that if I don’t take a break from time to time that I’m going to totally stress out and explode.

Tonight is one of those nights.  My stress has accumulated over the last couple of weeks, and tonight I finally exploded.  I handed the baby to Hubby, said I need to take a “me” break, and I walked off.  I feel like crap for doing so, but I knew if I didn’t I’d start screaming…and that’s something none of us need tonight.  Not to mention my face looks like pizza again because my stress level has my acne coming out in full force.

All I want is a baby with normal sleep habits, and by normal I mean a baby that doesn’t stay up half the night fighting sleep only to wake up every 1 1/2 hrs after she finally goes to bed.  All I want is a Hubby who actually helps me put her to bed so she isn’t dependent on me every night.  Sure Hubby offers to help me put her to bed at night, but his idea of helping isn’t exactly the same as mine. He takes her for about 5 minutes, attempts to give her a bottle, attempts to rock her for a minute, then gives in the second she whimpers.

Sigh.  I know she’ll eventually grow out of this phase.  I just needed a minutes to vent.