I Should Be Napping

I really should just close my eyes and rest. I have had such a good day today that I just cannot do it. My girls are back in school. No fighting in the house this afternoon. My son is well again. Bronson, Bree and I went for our walk. It was so nice out. Fall is in the air. Bree snuggled up close and slept, Bronson did his usual talking to the barking dogs and pointing out flowers, insects and animals. I listened and breathed. That is it. Is was so peaceful and relaxing. I have had lunch. Bree has been changed and fed. Bronson was changed, he fell asleep on the way home. Bree is asleep now. I've got the windows open and the ceiling fans on. I am curled up on the sofa, cozy under my daughter's fleece blanket. It is a great day. The only thing that could make it better would be to have my husband home and to have a pumpkin spice latte spiked with something good. This is the first really good day I have had in a while. I think I was deficient in some of my vitamins. I've increased my prenatals to twice a day, started back on my Magnesium and have actually remembered my iron supplements every day last week. Since doing so my headaches have gone away or been extremely mild. I have not felt overwhelmed at all today. Hopefully I didn't just cursed myself by saying that.

Losing it

The weight that is, heck, my mind too! I can only do minimal exercise at this point post partem. I do what I am able to though. Slowly I see my body coming back. Flabby, but I cannot tone just yet. Maybe it's only slowly to me. Bree was 3 weeks old Saturday. My fat girl, pre-pregnancy pants fit perfect straight from the dryer, after about 20 minutes of wearing them they are baggy. I have serious muffin top in my normal jeans though. I won't be sporting those for a bit. Here's a few wonderful bathroom self portraits of my progress.

The day I went into labor. About 12 hours before she was born.

11 days post partem.

23 days post partem, a fine looking fella and sliver of a beautiful girl trying to get away with the tooth brushes.

Spread Thin

I have good children. Not perfect, but good. Even so I have been feeling mentally and emotionally exhausted. Tested, thoroughly, by each of them in their own way. I really thought that having a fourth wouldn't be a big change. I basically raised Bronson alone from the moment he was born. Mylie had just turned two and was very difficult. She was mean to Bronson. She'd hit, slap and scream in his face every chance she got. Maybe because I was free from my ex husband, or because I was preoccupied with the divorce, but it seemed pretty easy. Not all days were wonderful, but the transition from two to three just happened easily. Bronson was an easy baby too though. Bree is a good baby. She had me worried at first because she had a difficult start with nursing, but we've since worked that out. For some reason this time is different. I feel as if I am treading water. Not depressed, just pulled in every direction. Someone always needs something from me. I really want my husband to anticipate my needs more. Jump in and offer more parenting help. I've told him this but he doesn't seem to really get it. He cleans, picks up food, does what ever chore I ask. The thing is, I would rather do the chores just so I can get into my head and ignore the demands of me. During the week the babies and I go for walks. They are the best part of my day. Bree falls asleep nestled against my heart in her Moby wrap. Bronson sits happily in his stroller listening to the birds chirp, pointing out squirrels and babbling away. It is peaceful. We all enjoy it. Since bringing Bree home, Bronson has quit napping until we go to pick up Mylie. He used to nap around 1:00 or so. Now he's up until we leave to get his sister. He sleeps in the car, and sometimes for an hour or so once we are home. This means I do not get a break all day long. No breaks ever. I try to clean when Bree sleeps. I play with Bronson as often as possible. We cuddle a lot. He still punishes me when I am doing something I have to do, like feeding his sister. He'll get into what ever he knows he shouldn't and watch me while he does it. I've corrected him more in these last two weeks than I have ever had to.  It is exhausting. It makes me feel like dirt. I love him with every part of me. Mylie is still being amazing with her sister. She is so in love with Bree and so proud to have a little sister. Talise has been extremely mouthy, argumentative, and unpleasant to be around. She still helps me a lot, but usually complains loudly about doing so.  I try to show her appreciation and be patient with her, but honestly I have lost my temper more than once and yelled.  I don't think she realizes what a stresser it is for me when she doles out the attitude. I already cannot win with my husband. Every weekend we tip toe around the house trying to let him sleep even though I am up multiple times a night. So far, he's stormed out of the bedroom fussing about us being loud each time. If I turn on the night light to change Bree, it's a problem. If I take her out of the bedroom to change her, I'll wake the other kids, so that is also a problem. Every time I've asked for help he's done it, after either running his mouth, rolling his eyes or exhaling loudly. When I just do everything and complain about hurting from doing it he comes back with " Stop! Just tell me what you need and I'll help you." No, really he whines first. I cannot stand it.  He usually thinks about what he's said or done and tries to make it up to me, but it has gotten old.  So I am feeling overwhelmed. Rather than feeling blissful about not being pregnant any longer, or my sweet newborns snuggles, I feel as though I am stretched so tight just one more pull and I'll break. I want to be able to relax a bit, take a nap, not feel so inadequate and insecure, soak up my new baby, be blissfully happy. I want to not cringe at all the noise my kids playing makes. I 'm sure most of this is still hormones, baby blues or what ever, but I'm ready to be past it.