Bad timing.  After a huge weekend filled with family love, celebration, and good food, I'm alone with my almost 2-month old baby for the next three days.  And after being with us since our baby was six days old, my mother has gone home.

Now I understand the end-of-the-rope feeling that new moms get and it's only less than one day out of my three.  I am alone for three days because my husband flies back to Chicago for work from Tuesday morning through Thursday night.  I hoped to line up a friend or two to stay with me for my husband's last commutes of the year but they fell through.

Before I get rolling with the self pity I have to acknowledge the women who don't have a husband or a mother's help, ever.  The women who have more than one kid.  The women who have a kid who isn't as easy as ours.

Nevertheless… this is hard.  I am feeling like a dope because on occasion I have bitched at my husband for "only" taking the baby for "a few hours" here and there through the day, and for part of the night.  I'm an idiot!  That was lovely.  This is unrelenting.  Just being able to hand him off to somebody else – I'll really appreciate that the next time I get the chance.

I'm typing this, by the way, because my baby is not exactly sleeping but not exactly screaming and I can be not-holding him for a few minutes.  There is holding him and there is not-holding him; there is no more me.

This sounds whiny but it actually may be my survival strategy.  If I just forget about cleaning the mess, doing the taxes going to the gym reading the book or doing anything that is… well, anything… then I'm fine.  I just have to sync up with the baby; eat when he eats (this is tricky) sleep when he sleeps and be in-between when he is. 

It's hard.  It's boring, frankly.  He is cute and I adore him but I can't gaze at him 20 hours a day.  I watch a lot of DVDs and that helps me not resent the hours he might want to spend not exactly sleeping, or the way he sleeps soundly in my arms and pops awake the minute we get near his crib.  Thank God for the endless supply of "CSI" available instantly through Netflix.  I must find other online TV, any ideas?

I'm trying not to panic.  He's not screamy – at the moment – and when he is it's actually easier when there is no one around.  Part of what's awful about a crying baby is the looks I imagine I am getting from other people or who he might be keeping awake.  If it's just me, well, whatever.  But it's unrelenting, isn't it?  I used to not get the new moms who said they couldn't shower or read a newspaper.  Now I get it.  I used to think, just go to the gym, how hard can it be? They have daycare, right? 

But oh, the strapping him into the car seat and the hoping he doesn't cry or getting the timing right between feedings or trying not to be so exhausted that I'm a menace behind a wheel just getting to the gym.  Never mind having the energy to actually exercise once I get there.  Not to mention entrusting him to the strangers in the daycare center.  I may just allow myself to sit in the hot tub or get a massage there, hopefully after at least a token amount of physical activity.  Which I need because eating healthily at this point is the extra mile I cannot go; thank God I stocked up on healthy frozen meals because five minutes in the microwave is all i've got to spend on dinner.  And of course my sugar cravings have never been more intense.

Sigh.  Baby's crying.  Thanks for letting me whine.

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