Gripe and moan.

This is the Moby Wrap. I love it. Angus sometimes loves it. I have two slings, two different kinds of Snugli's, and this thing, and I use them all, because Angus screams any time he's in one of them, so I'm always trying a different one, in the stupid hope that he won't scream at me.



This is Angus in his Moby before we left yesterday. You can tell by the look on his face, that he was one big fat grump all day.










Last night Aaron kept elbowing and smacking Angus in his sleep. Every time his arm would fling out and hit the baby, I threw it back at him and told him to stop it.
And then HE got mad at ME!!! Well I guess he was unaware that he was accidentally hitting Angus (who didn't even notice anyway) and he thought I was just being a bitch, so he went and slept on the couch.

Yesterday I got overwhelmed with the shittiness of everything. I let it get to me, which I'm trying not to do. I've found that when I write about things, it helps me to see the humor in things, which makes things much easier to deal with. I tried to write yesterday but it just ended up sounding like one big-ass complaint, which nobody wants to hear.

Yesterday was one of those days where everything I anticipated turned out to be WRONG! It was one of those days where I really felt what a demanding and consuming and thankless job it is to be a mother.
I thought Angus needed to get out of the house, so I intended to take him downtown, also so I could get to H&R block, which I have been trying to do for three days. I think Angus gets bored of looking around the same old shitty, messy apartment, so I try and take him out to give him new things to look at. Turns out what he really needed was to be wrapped in a straightjacket and left in a dark room by himself all day.

What a miserable child! Angus, why do you have to be so Goddamned MAD all the time?! I'm TRYING to make you happy! Just when I think I've figured out what you like, you throw a curveball right at my face and you yell at me that that's NOT what you like, and what a stupid woman I am for not knowing what you like! Give me a break, PLEEEEEASE!

The other day when we went downtown we took the stroller, AND, being the smart woman I am, I also brought the Moby Wrap, just in case he wigged out. Well he did of course, and good thing I brought that. So I ended up with my baby in his Moby Wrap and pushing around the stupid empty stroller all day.

So naturally, yesterday I figured, to hell with the stroller, I'll just put Angus in his Moby Wrap and we'll take the bus down! Well fuck me! He screeeeeeeamed his face off all day and passersby thought I was torturing my child. I figured out he was probably too hot being held so close to me, and also tired, and what he needed was to lie in his stroller with the cover on it to block out all the stimuli so he could have a nap. Too bad I didn't bring the stroller!

I ended up going to Mountain Baby (I LOVE YOU MOUNTAIN BABY!!!) and using their breast-feeding room. I stripped my hot little baby down to his diaper and turned the light off and he finally fell asleep. By then I was too stressed out to bother with H&R block, so I got back on the bus and went home, and threw a hissy fit and then had a nap with my little angel.

But all that just took SO MUCH out of me. And I'm supposed to bathe myself and clean the house and cook dinner?? Actually Aaron has taken on the role of "Cook" and I really can't thank him enough for that. The kitchen is such a disaster that instead of cleaning it, I avoid it at all costs. Luckily, Aaron doesn't mind. He just cleans the dishes he needs and cooks up a feast for his pissy wife! I love you Aaron.

When I woke up from my nap I was in a very sorry state of self-pity, and that's when I came to computer to complain to the internet, but then I deleted it because I didn't think anyone wanted to read my whingeing and whining, but now I'm going to do it anyway, because I NEED TO!

Okay, the physical ailments of post-birth. My ASS HURTS! I don't really need to explain that anymore than I already have.
My KNEES hurt. I thought I had arthritis, but my doctor told me it was from the ligaments softening from the pregnancy hormones. He suggested I go to physio. Um, and what will I do with my baby while I go to physio? And who will pay for my physio? Not happening, Mr. Rich Doctor Who Doesn't Have A Baby, Therefore Doesn't Know What It's Like. I don't care if you pulled my baby out of me and stitched me back together afterward, YOU DO NOT KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE! YOU ARE A MAN!
Then he suggested I ride a stationary bike. Well that's just ridiculous. Where am I supposed to find one of those? (Actually my neighbor has one.) But where would I put my baby? I suppose I could strap him to me while I pedal to nowhere. Something about riding a stationary bike and not going anywhere seems incredibly boring.

My TOOTH hurts. During pregnancy, my greedy little fetus robbed me of all the precious vitamins and minerals that hold my body together, and my teeth fell apart. During my 30th week of pregnancy, I was eating a piece of pizza and a piece of my tooth came off in the cheese. So now I have this big gaping hole that is probably an infected absess now, not to mention all my painful cavities that I have accumulated since not visiting a dentist since I was probably about ten years old. So every time I eat ANYTHING, I am in pain.
In Canada, we are lucky to have free health care, but dentist visits are not part of that, which doesn't make any sense to me. I guess I have to wait until my infected tooth causes me to get really sick, and then I can go to the hospital and get treated for free.

On top of it all, I felt really bloated and greasy, probably due to the microwaved hot dogs I ate, and the fact that I hadn't showered for three days. On top of that, I tried to clean up this nuclear war-zone that is otherwise known as our shoebox apartment, but I just got way too overwhelmed by it all. I managed to put the laundry away, which took me an hour, and then I knew that I am NEVER going to get this place clean. The mess is bigger than me. What is wrong with me? I go to people's houses who have children, and it's always clean! Why can't I do it?

Oh, woe is me!

Thanks for listening to me complain. Later, I'm going to attempt to go to H&R block (AGAIN) to demand to know why I received a letter instead of money. This is the fourth day of trying to do this!

The batteries are dying in Angus's swing, which I can't believe! I JUST put batteries in it three days ago! Now the songs sound like they're possessed and sending me subliminal messages, it's rather creepy. They probably actually are possessed. By my demon child.

Angus, please be happy today after you wake up from your nap. I don't think I can handle you being so mad at me and causing a scene downtown making everyone think I am an unfit mother. You make me want to hole up inside the house all the time, which is really not healthy. For you, or for me. So CHEER UP little one!