Monday, September 15, 2008
A Face Only a Mother Could Love. Also the Pumpkin Spice Latte Is Back.
Seriously, this kid is fugly sometimes. He really does not take a good picture. And to top it all off, he really doesn't even have a very good personality.
He hasn't slept, for example, in 3 days. I mean, he falls asleep but does not stay that way. He has woken up every 10 minutes for the past 3 nights. And he hasn't taken any naps.
I had to cancel my weekly housecleaner today because I thought he was sick and had to reschedule our whole morning to take him to the doctor.
Baby not sick.
House not clean.
About that, what the hell is wrong with me? Do I have PPD?
I have been FREAKING out about the state of my house. I MOVE THE FURNITURE to clean behind it the day before the cleaning service comes. I get up on a chair and wash all the blades of all the ceiling fans the day before the service comes. Yesterday, I chortled with pure joy because I finally figured out how to get all the dust off the refrigerator vents (at least I think that's what they're called-- the little slats at the bottom of the fridge, underneath the door-- you know, the ones that are only visible if you are laying on your stomach on the kitchen floor, which no one ever is but me on cleaning day) the day before the service was supposed to come. I cleaned the china cabinet inside and out, made Ben dust all the mini blinds and clean the tracks of all the windows, scrubbed the inside and outside of the fridge, and used two Erasers worth of Magic washing the walls (suddenly, our walls are filthy bout 36 inches off the ground, hmmm-- I wonder why)-- all the day before my house was scheduled to be cleaned. I mean, it's one thing to pick up all the toys before the cleaners come. It's even okay to clean those hard-to-reach spots that they seem to always neglect or those special places that you want to be really clean. But giving the whole place a deep clean every Sunday so that people can come over and do it again (only not as well-- never as well) on Monday? That's some kind of crazy.
Part of it, surely, is that I am procrastinating my project (like always). Part of it, I think, is that our lives are totally crazy and in flux right now as we adapt to new schedules and longer work hours, and I am trying to have control over just this one teeny little aspect of my world. Part of it, though, might be something else.
Where is the line between sleep deprivation and depression?
This was about the time (4-5 months) post partum when I totally lost my shit after having Harry, and the hormonal writing is on the wall: I'm losing a cat's worth of hair from my head everyday; I am really anxious about everything, and I feel like I am about to fly off the handle at every little annoyance. And I have a 2 year-old, so there are a lot of little annoyances.
So Jack is not sick. The doctor said teeth, but that they are not coming in any time soon. Freaking awesome.
As for me? I don't know what's going on. But I am turning into Mommy Dearest. Harry asked me if I was mad when I was cleaning this weekend, and I almost said, "I'm not mad at you Harry. I'm mad at the dirt," when I remembered that if you replaced "Harry" with "Helga" that's a line straight from the movie.
Blech. Back to work. Thank god for my favorite fall drink.