The thing about getting a babysitter when your baby is one of those babies that wakes up like every hour after going to sleep for the night, and is pretty much used to getting the comfort of his mother and her milk-makers at each and every one of those wake-ups is... well... it's sort of unnerving.
I feel bad unleashing that on someone else, so normally, I just don't. We don't go out that often, and if we do, it's usually not a "we" and it's just a "me" and I don't feel bad about unleashing that on Dan because, well, he's the dad. That's his job. I don't feel guilt sharing parenting duties, even when we know they are going to suck more for him because he doesn't have these handy boobs of mine.
We went out tonight. Dan's teenage sister and her friend watched the kids, and it went totally fine, but Louie definitely did wake up a few hours after going to bed (as expected) and Maria's poor friend ended up dealing with a pretty pissed off baby who spent an hour waking up screaming on and off seemingly just to torture her. This was while Maria was upstairs laying with Gus to get him to go to sleep, her efforts foiled multiple times by the DAMN DOG going up and down the stairs like a crazed lunatic.
Ugh. I feel bad unleashing this kind of stress on others. Hopefully Maria hasn't been scared away for good, and if I'm looking on the bright side, if anything my children served as birth control tonight for two high school seniors?
This stage of life is hard. There's just no break, even when you take a break.
People throw out "get a sitter!" all the time to stressed out and overwhelmed parents, but it's not that easy. And while yeah, I think it's important to get away, I also think sometimes it's not worth it. Sometimes it's too stressful. Sometimes I'd just rather get the kids to bed early and sit on my couch and drink a beer and that be my "break".
Whatever. We had a fine night out, saw the new Bond movie and I got to watch Daniel Craig strut around in tight pants on the big screen for two and a half hours. But also? I was engorged all night because Louie really is taking this "No I will not nurse at any point while the sun is out" thing seriously. So I'm uncomfortable, and then also can't stop thinking about the whole situation. I let down when the wind blows a certain way.
Let it go, I tell myself.
Let it go!
But it's hard, this didn't happen with Gus, this is new. I don't really know how to handle it and I feel like I'm a brand new mother again. I try to tell myself that our nursing relationship isn't over, not by a long shot, since he still of course wants to nurse basically all night long, and I have plenty of breastmilk stored up in the freezer for during the day, but I just can't seem to be 100% objective about it.
Let it go.
Okay, this is a funny story though from tonight. We were eating dinner at the lovely hour of 5:00, like all the cool kids. We made a nice and simple dinner before going out, baked ziti, green beans, delicious crusty bread, and Gus WOULD NOT TOUCH IT. Nothing. He wouldn't eat anything.
And after multiple attempts to get down from the table we strapped him into his booster seat and that really mad him angry. He was doing lots of screaming and looking around trying to think of what to grab from the table and throw. Ugh. Just, a ridiculous display of THREE.
We told him he didn't have to eat a thing, but he needed to sit at the table until we were done eating and he was not allowed to scream and throw things and generally be a jerk.
And then the truth came out. He said, "I not eat spaghetti or green beans, I eat popsicles when Maria comes over."
Of course. He had a plan.
Dan and I looked at each other out of the corner of our eyes, stifling laughs.
Then we said, "Well, we're going to tell Maria that you are not allowed to have a popsicle if you don't eat some of your dinner."
He remained unfazed, and just repeated his plan to eat when Maria gets here. He was so matter of fact about it, like, duh, he'll eat popsicles, and there is absolutely no question that Maria will give them to him.
Oh Maria, the kid has got your number. He may have all of our numbers, and we just don't know it yet.
THIS. IS. THREE.