Last night the baby screamed at me for forty minutes and then at J for half an hour before falling asleep. Tonight she screamed at me, inconsolably, for two hours. Perhaps we were spoiled because she never had colic but this is heartbreaking. She just howls and sobs and fat tears roll down her little chubby cheeks.
I am tired down in my bones. I feel as though the marrow has been scraped out of me and I am just a shell. A shell that types.
When you feel this way there is nothing really that you do well except list all of the ways that you are failing the people in your life. There are so many. It isn't just the baby's sleep, which is awful, but also this soul-crushing work problem (that shall not be named because I don't need a Dooceing on top of everything else) and the normal life shit. What I really need is a full night's sleep, a couple of days off, a bowl of ice cream and a good boinking. I won't be getting any of those things any time soon I am sure.
Poor J. It must be alarming to watch your wife just loose her shit completely and sadly, just rocking in a corner. Because that is what I am doing and I do not know how to stop.
I will just go to bed. That will help.