...bitch

I am coming up on just about 8 months without a full night's sleep and a year and some change of my body being completely whacked out and not my own.

first it was the pea sized pregnant bladder and the cold as ice toilet seat...now its the waking up, feeding diapering and strangling of one incredibly stubborn infant several times a night.

I'm coming apart at the seams in every possible meaning (literal or colloquial).

this aint working.

my brain is fried. I'm trying to study for an examination in a few weeks and can't get beyond the first sentence in every paragraph. gonna take a cruise on the fail ship on this one, I'm sure.

my body is toast. sooooooo weak. so so so so weak. no likey. I'm used to being able to compensate for, uhhh...'not so great' technique with brute strength. when you weigh 120 and can do 20 pull-ups with 20 pounds on your back...usually a little thing like shitty footwork doesn't throw you off too much. not these days. I don't have the heart to even attempt a pull-up, let along a sketchy over-hung climb.

it hurts. it hurts bad.

now my daily walks are starting to kick my ass. how can a lazy stroll around the hood pushing a carriage at a pregnant woman's pace (my neighbor and walking partner is 7 months) totally obliterate me? I'm starting to avoid the tiny lil "hill" up the avenue back to my house. going around 4 blocks so I don't get winded and/or collapse?

weak sauce.

yesterday I nearly hit the deck at the grocery store (why's it always the grocery store???). I forgot to eat every 23 minutes and realized while pushing the cart that it was the only thing holding me up. I was shaking, had trouble focusing my eyes and realized after about 25 minutes that I was walking up and down each aisle going, "nope. can't eat that. can't eat this. can't eat that, either. nope....can't...nope. you're killing mommy. mommy's gonna die. can't eat...sleep...nope, nope..."

at that point it finally clicked. no. you CAN'T eat that...so pay for what you've got in your basket and get your nearly hallucinating ass home to have some rice and turkey...bitch.

the problem I'm having with all this...is that I can't push through. it doesn't work. when I get to the push point and give myself a shove...I've got nothing (NOTHING) in the tanks. it's "unnerving" (aka really pisses me off) that my physical and mental states are so far beyond my control that I can't knuckle down and make something happen.

14 months of draining the reserves.

I'm beat. I need sleep. I need more foods. I need a glass of milk and an english muffin with peanut butter.

nursing is seriously fucking me up. i'm over it. emotionally, physically, psychologically...OVER IT. unfortunately the prof is not, and since I'm not in the business of creating intentional psychological scars for innocent and unsuspecting babies...I'm gonna have to suck it up (or let him suck me dry) just a little while longer. (at least I tell myself its only a little while...but in reality...it'll feel like an eternity)

HOWEVER I am taking a hardline with him on the one thing I can. I KNOW he's capable of sleeping 8 hour stretches...so the next time (probably tonight) that he decides to wake up every hour and a half...

I'm not having it.

I've got one word for him:

Ferberize...bitch.

(ok. that's two...but bitch isn't particularly substantive, and was really just an afterthought. I don't usually call the boy bitch...although...I often think it.)