Yesterday was rough. Emma woke up prematurely. It was raining outside. Joshua wanted to be all up underneath. And I think Emma’s in a growth spurt which means she wanted to nurse all.day.long.
At one point, all three of us were on the same couch cushion, with a little kid foot in my ribs, and a baby on my boob. Oh, and Joshua also found his grill tongs and decided to “fix my hair” with them. Which meant lots of accidental pinching and pulling and “ouch!” followed by “sowwy, mama!”
Being touched that much is exhausting. I feel bad complaining about it, but there it is. There’s only so much of the skin-to-skin that I can take before I don’t even want to touch my own skin anymore.
Maybe it makes me a bad stay-at-home-mom, but Joshua’s going to daycare twice a week and it’s so awesome I could do a back flip because it means I can focus on only one child at a time and I know his needs are being met when he needs them met instead of when the baby lets me off the couch.
Except I did just get a text from the daycare owner that he pooped his pants, so there’s that nice piece of laundry waiting for me when I pick him up.
I feel bad for Joshua when he’s home with me on a day like yesterday. I feel like the only thing I CAN do for him is to let him sit underneath me if that’s what he wants even if it means I feel like my skin is crawling.
I’m trying my best to be there for his emotional needs, but Emma’s physical needs are equally demanding. I can’t seem to balance the two and it’s kind of wearing on my Mama Heart.
He’s really been so good with this transition that I’m kind of impressed with his relative maturity, but there are moments, little tiny flashes of little kid outrage, when I wonder what bringing Emma home has really done to him.
I try to give him as much of my love as I can whenever I can. And I try to tell myself that this time in Emma’s life is fleeting. She won’t always need so much of my physical attention.
I just hope it’s enough.