I'm having a hard time getting the energy to write lately. Getting back into the routine at home after such a long time away has taken a bit of work (and it still feels like I'm playing catch-up). A couple big projects are done--house cleaning, grocery shopping. But River's suitcase is still sitting in the corner of his room, stuffed full and going nowhere on it's own.
I've upped my daily sitter hours to three with the intention of using the extra time doing the business end of my acting work, but even that extra hour gets eaten up with stupid things like taking a shower or doing laundry. I know I need to be stricter with "my time" but it's not easy.
Mainly it's the same old song: River won't sleep and I'm exhausted. He's spent the past few nights screaming his head off anytime Thom or I take him near the crib and I've resorted to sleeping with him on the couch so that a) I don't have to nurse him all night long and b) at least one of us can get the illusion of sleep.
This morning (stupidly early) Thom got up to catch a plane and I had River in bed with me. He woke up after daddy was gone and screamed and squirmed and refused to go down for two hours. You can imagine how not friends we were during that time. Those moments are the worst for me. When everything that I love about him is drowned out by wails and frustration. It's hard for me to be the patient, loving mother I so want to be when I'm so tired and he's so unreasonable.
Finally, after an epic struggle he fell asleep for a few more hours and I had time to regain some sanity.
In the morning, I set him in his highchair and turned on some music while I cooked breakfast. It was an infectious pop song by Lily Allen and I couldn't help but do a ridiculous little dance to it. Well, River just cracked up at my ungraceful moves, pouring out laugh after laugh.
I always worry that he'll hold it against me when I lose my temper. Of course he never does. But this morning, at least, watching the joy I was creating in his little face, I was able to forgive myself.