tired.

today has been a long, hard day.

i didn't get much sleep last night.  my stomach was hurting/cramping pretty badly.  it started around 8.  and didn't get better until this morning.  i might have slept 1.5 hours total.  my lower back hurts and keeps me from getting in any position that is comfortable.  of course, i'd finally find one where i didn't have a hot pain radiating to my toes, and then i'd have to get up to go pee.  it was ugly.  somewhere around 330, i started crying.  sobbing.  and then around 4 i was mad at myself for being a baby.

pratt was really good today.  i think he knew that i couldn't do a hard day.  i think sometimes he senses it.  maybe i'm frayed.  and he's intuitive enough to know that he's got to be good.

i didn't nap when he napped for several reasons.  one. i knew that if i did, i'd NEVER be able to fall asleep tonight.  and two.  because i needed to clean my house.  i always need to clean my house.  and i'm not good at that old "a clean house can wait" thing.  it can't.  a dirty house makes me unhappy.  and literally keeps me up at night.

i don't know how or why, but this house is always dirty.  i don't know if that's normal or not.  growing up, our house was always clean.  i assume this was because my mother was constantly cleaning it.  and it's a big house.  really, really big.  i don't know how she did it.  i used to clean my room and spencer cleaned hers.  and we cleaned our bathroom, and i was exhausted.  and now...to think, my poor mom was cleaning the rest of that house alone.

tonight pratt was not wanting to go to bed.  the past few nights have been hard.  i don't know why.  he says he's scared of the fire alarm.  but i really think it's an excuse.  we've touched it, talked about it, etc in the daylight.  i take his concerns/worries/fears very seriously. because i know what it's like to be afraid.  but i think it's an excuse to stay out of his room.

it started suddenly.  and like any habit, it's gonna be a hard one to break.

tonight i was done.  tired.  over it.

i put him down.  and about 3 minutes in of him screaming my name i went in there to tell him that he was fine.  and that he needed to lay down.  he was at the foot of his bed.  i put him up on his pillow, kissed him again and walked out.

about 2 minutes later, he walks out of his room.  WHICH HE NEVER DOES.  i walked back in there, picked him up and felt his little heart beating so fast.  and he was crying so hard.  i held him and sat on his bed.  he just kept begging me to stay in there with him.  lay down with him.  i'm a total hard a most of the time.  but when it comes to him begging me, i'm a limp noodle.

i remember what it's like to be scared.  and not want the day to end.  to just want your mom or dad with you.  laying by you.  and so i gave in.  i told him to close his eyes and i'd close mine and we'd go to sleep.  he immediately stopped crying and said, "oh fank you mommy."

as i lay there with him, i began to cry.

because of so many things.  in no particular order.

i'm tired.  i hurt all over.  i have so much to do and never feel like i get anything completely done.  it was 815 and i realized that i was laying there with him when i should be up doing things.  but at the same time, i felt this overwhelming guilt to just be his mother.  and be there for him.  because i know that time flies.  and i know that one day he won't want me to lay with him.  and he won't beg for me hold him.

it was just this internal battle.  i was mad at myself.  for not being able to stop crying.  for being a baby.  but at the same time, i was mad at clint.  because he wasn't having to deal with this.  i was.  i was dealing with it.  i wanted him to come in and say, "hannah.  you're tired.  you've dealt with this all day.  go sleep.  i'll do this."

let me say that had i asked him, he probably would have done it at that point. (he actually did go in later when i had given up) but i didn't want to ask.  it's like that everybody loves raymond episode.  where debra tells him that she just wanted him to hug her.  but she didn't want to have to tell him to hug her.  same thing.  i want him to read my mind.  i know, i know.  impossible.  but after dating/being married to me for 10 years, you'd think he'd know.  whatever.

it's not about him.  it's about me.  and my problem.  and my issues.  and my raging hormones.

i must have cried the entire 45 minutes i was in there.

i'm totally overwhelmed. all i could think about was how soon i'd have a second baby.  and how am i supposed to deal with pratt...and be there for him when i have this other baby to care for.  what do i do at that point?

i'm starting to feel those postpartum feelings.  you know, where there is no light at the end of the tunnel.  where i really don't know that it will get any better.  i really don't know that i will ever be okay.

wait, that's not right.  i DO know that i will be okay.  but it feels like it might take years to get there.  and i don't know that i have that long.

i like being happy.  i like being normal.  i like not crying all the time.

and as i type this, i am fully aware of all the people who really have worse problems than me.  i'm thinking of those that i know that are having problems getting pregnant.  or who have lost babies and who can't seem to get pregnant again.  or those who have sick babies.  sick babies that may  never come home from the hospital.  i think of my friend jana who has two boys under 6.  who recently lost her husband and is left to raise those kids on her own.

and here i am.  complaining about something that seems so small.  yet, to me...seems bigger than me.  so much bigger than me.

i think this is mom guilt.

i'm pretty sure that's what it is.  because prior to coming downstairs to write this, to purge...i sat in in pratt's room and just watched him sleep.  i worried that he fell asleep upset.  or worried that i was upset with him.  i worried that i had hurt him.  or scarred him for life.

he looked so peaceful, so i didn't wake him.

i think maybe i'll go up and sleep with him.  just so if he wakes in the middle of the night he knows i'm not upset with him.  and he knows that i'm right there.

sorry for the depressing post.  it's real life around here.  aren't you glad you live far, far away?  ha.