Okay, literally... I am so over my newborn puking on me (and everything in sight) every five minutes and paying attention to when each of my kids shit last. REALLY?!?!? All I can do is laugh because if I don't, I may have a fucking meltdown.
You know that in-describable feeling you get when you're in your first trimester of pregnancy? You know the most horrific, miserable, earth-shatteringly toxic hung-over all the time feeling? Yeah, that one. That's my life now-a-days. I feel like I'm stuck in groundhog day - but I drank a fifth of vodka the night before.
Being selfish, in the littlest bit, is not possible with kids. People don't tell you just how little "you" time you get once you have a child. I knew this when preparing for baby #2, but it's something you an never quite convey to an expecting first time parent.
I'm not complaining and would do ANYTHING for my kids. But damnit, some days I just want five freakin' minutes where someone isn't pulling, poking, puking or pushing at me for SOMETHING!!! Here come the cliches...
My life is on a 2.5 hour loop that goes something like this:
Feed.
Change clothes from puke.
Load of laundry.
Eat.
Change Diaper.
Repeat.
Someone please share this with the next doctor that tries to question and/or evaluate postpartum depression. Instead of prescribing meds first, maybe they should try some free time?
Just a suggestion...
You know that in-describable feeling you get when you're in your first trimester of pregnancy? You know the most horrific, miserable, earth-shatteringly toxic hung-over all the time feeling? Yeah, that one. That's my life now-a-days. I feel like I'm stuck in groundhog day - but I drank a fifth of vodka the night before.
Being selfish, in the littlest bit, is not possible with kids. People don't tell you just how little "you" time you get once you have a child. I knew this when preparing for baby #2, but it's something you an never quite convey to an expecting first time parent.
I'm not complaining and would do ANYTHING for my kids. But damnit, some days I just want five freakin' minutes where someone isn't pulling, poking, puking or pushing at me for SOMETHING!!! Here come the cliches...
My life is on a 2.5 hour loop that goes something like this:
Feed.
Change clothes from puke.
Load of laundry.
Eat.
Change Diaper.
Repeat.
Someone please share this with the next doctor that tries to question and/or evaluate postpartum depression. Instead of prescribing meds first, maybe they should try some free time?
Just a suggestion...
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