Little Girl Blue

Blahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. That's how I feel. I mean, I am totally in love with my baby, and my husband, we live in a house that I am in love with. My job, although I am torn about leaving the baby everyday, is one that I like for the most part. We have great friends, and my family is wonderful. But I feel like as happy as I should be, I have been in this cycle of complaining and being negative all the time.

It's starting to wear on me. It's starting to wear on us. I notice that my husband likes me less...I feel like he does. I feel like this negativity cloud is created entirely by me and I don't know why. Why?

I feel like we had this baby and she was the light of my life, born entirely of our hearts. My God, I just want to eat her with a spoon. But as wonderful as she is, she takes alot of work. There is no time for myself, no time for my husband and I to really talk. I feel like I am going through the motions of life, but not really living it. Just trying to keep my head above water. Wake up, feed her, hug her, go to work, come home, feed her, play with her, hug her, put her to bed and go to bed myself from being so tired. And I watch a tv show sometime in all that chaos...while my husband watches the game (whatever game, it doesn't matter) on a separate tv.

Rinse, Lather, Repeat.

I'm missing out on this wonderful life that I'm living. Like I'm not present for it...does anyone understand? I can't explain it well, but I know how I feel.

And in the midst of it all, I complain about everything. "I'm tired, so and so is an asshat, work is driving me crazy, I'm tired (that's really a big one!)..." I feel like I am losing myself, losing my husband. Overreacting to everything. And it needs to stop. This constant cloud of negativity and complaining has to stop.

I have excused this behavior under the guise of the life change of having a baby. But seriously? No. Just no. I can't let this go on much longer or it becomes me. Becomes who I am. And I don't want to be this person. I know that person. Hell, we all know blogs like that (KidKate knows who I'm talking about!) I don't want to bring people down that way. I don't want to be the human equivalent of a Counting Crows CD.

So tonight, I am going home and dragging my fat behind out for a run with the baby in our new jogging stroller. Then I am going to kiss my husband and make some dinner, which we will eat together at a real table. And the TV? Well, that's what DVR is for. I think I'll start reading again. And You know what? What the hell? I'm not even going to utter a word on the ride into work tomorrow as he attempts to drive "Dukes of Hazzard" style over the bridge.

I'll just bitch about it on my blog...

Teething

Dear Buddha's teeth:

I couldn't help noticing that you seem to be performing most of your work at night. Because people in our home need to go to work and function at a relatively high level during the day, this is proving to be less than conducive to our lifestyle. Therefore, if you could kindly refrain from any nighttime work, it would be much appreciated. Also, if it is possible to speed up the process with regard to the lastest growth of the two top teeth it would make a significant impact on the quality of our lives.

In the event that you continue to be contrary, we will be forced to take appropriate measures. Although I am not familiar with any options I have in dealing with you, I assure you that I will research avenues to thwart you -while I am up for the fourth consecutive night in a row. However, I would like to avoid any protracted battle, and therefore simply request that you freaking break through already and stop being such a bitch.

Well...that was uncalled for and I do, in fact, apologize for the preceeding language. I am normally more professional, however a lack of sleep has caused the appearance of an unattractive side (in more ways than one).

In short, I am confident that we can work together to resolve our disputes amicably. May I suggest the following agreement: should you need any orthodontia work in the future, I will be happy to agree to pay for same provided you work with me in the instant matter. I feel that this is a fair deal and will save us both considerable aggravation in the long run.

Thank you for your anticipated cooperation, and I look forward to a cooperative and productive relationship with you in the future.

Sincerely,

Newlywifed

The Dreaded Stat Counter

I don't know if other people know that you can tell that they are reading your blog through statcounter. I can even tell how many times you come on and how long you stay.

So, 'yes'. I know you are reading this. Why not leave a comment...? trust me, I am not writing anything that I would keep secret or don't want anyone to find out. I am mindful that this is public and therefore post accordingly (except that last post. I mean, talking about one's female functions is probably not a good topic to have floating around out there right?).

And if you are reading this and thinking "does she mean me?" Yes, I mean you. We know each other...most of these stories I have probably told you in person! So the anonymous checking and rechecking of this blog is ridiculous. Just leave a comment! Or tell me when we see each other. Or call. This whole, "I know you know about the blog, but you don't know that I know that you know" thing is getting out of hand and kind of awkward for me.

To everyone else, who is reading and thinking "does she mean me? I mean, how does she even know me? Oh, my God, does she stalk me, and think we have some type of relationship...I only pop in to read some light hearted fare once in a while. Holy crap, I don't want to be KNOWN!" Relax. I don't mean you. Carry on as you were. But totally leave a comment if you want, and I will befriend you! You know, if you want to. Easy Breasy. Whatever. No pressure. This is really about the other person, who I do know.

Yes YOU...OVER THERE.

PS: The very least you could email my husband and tell him to stop by once in a while...I mean, would it KILL the man to read what I am writing? HE WAS THE INSPIRATION after all.

PPS: Could I flog the dead horse of my husband ignoring my creative genius over here any more?