Here’s where I reach out to the blog world. Here’s where I confess that I’m drowning in a sea of incompetence and insecurity and exhaustion, the likes of which I haven’t seen since…okay, for about two years.
This newborn thing is kicking my ass. The newborn with the toddler with the work with the everything else in my life that needs attention and is suffering thing. So I try to ease up my load by leaving Sage with our nanny/sitter. (Sanny? Nitter?) Which was good idea until Sage decided that nope, not eating from a bottle any more. Used to, but no more. No thanks. Not doing it. No bottles for me and I’ll just be holding out for the direct mammary contact, for as long as it takes thankyouverymuch.
I’m trying to see the bright side: My boobs are irresistible.
She’s a strong-willed one, this little Taurus. She went 17 hours without eating last week. So what’s 8 hours to her while I’m working? What’s three hours while mommy goes to a meeting? She could do that with her eyes closed. (Closed and crying as she wails her heartbreaking mommy is neglecting me wail…but you get my drift.)
So once again I’m attached to Sage more often than I believe I am mentally capable of doing. When I’m not stuck to her, I’m horribly guilt-ridden knowing that she’s not eating until I get home. When I get home I’m resentful that she will now recommence eating every two hours for the rest of the night and into the morning. (Snotty-ass note to Nate: Sorry, but no, you are not as tired as I am these days.)
I need her on the bottle. I must have her on that bottle.
My sanity is at stake here. So please, please oh brilliant, been there/fed that readers: Give me better solutions for bottle transitions than the scary stuff I’ve been reading on babycenter, about babies who would only take bottles in the bathtub, or only in the park five miles away, or only from wacky Aunt LouLou with the wandering eye, or who NEVER TOOK BOTTLES EVER UNTIL THE MOTHER WENT BATSHIT CRAZY AND KILLED SOMEONE.
I’m getting to the point where I don’t even care what the bottles are made of. If she’s not sucking on some damn silicone soon so I can get an occasional break I’m going to lose it.