Frustration at Its Finest

Tonight I sit at this keyboard on my couch.
I am watching my nearly 4 week old son sleep...then not...then sleep...then not.

I am frustrated.
I am frustrated because I am too tired.

I am frustrated by how hungry my baby is at this time of day, when it is a struggle to get him to be awake enough to nurse both sides all day long. I am frustrated that he is a difficult baby to burp, and therefore he gets tummy aches and pukes...and then needs to eat a bunch more.

I am frustrated with the fact that he needs only me so much. But if I switch to formula to even the care duties and sleep, I feel like a failure and a bad mom for not giving our son my best. I am frustrated by the fact that I am feeling so selfish about this rught now.

I am frustrated by my long list of projects I'd like to do, or we'd like to do, or more so the inability to get anything done these days.

I am frustrated by myself for thinking there would be opportunities to get things done. I knew better.

I am frustrated because our outing at our friends tonight went about as well as it did last year when we tried it. Which, by the way, is not well. I wonder if we will ever get to the point of other families where you don't have to have constant vigilence...

I am frustrated that as the oldest, Kaitlynn so often gets the short end of the stick. I was in her shoes once and it bugs me when she's rightfully discontent.

I am frustrated that I have so much to get out of my head. I want to write so much about Cooper's birth, and what's rattling around in my head about that. Some of it is complete craziness, some of it is fear, some of it is amazement and awe...all of it is very real and my fingers want to unleash it from my brain.

I want to write about my last ever vist to Maida and Jack's Bar - a business my grandparents took over in 1964, with my uncle running it from 1986 until now.

I want to write about saying goodbye to my childhood home - and watching my parents things being sold at auction from our lawn. About the feelings that come with watching a "kid" you used to babysit, along with his wife and one-year-old, wander through "your" empty house as they dream about soon making it "theirs." About the odd serenity of spending one last night in a big, empty house alone...with a fussy baby by your side and a floodgate of memories running through your head.

I want to write about my son, his amazing progress lately despite the Down syndrome, and our incredible "itch" to have him talk. Things are difficult with 3 under age five...when 2 of them don't speak.

I want to write about our first IEP meeting with the school district.

Someday, I hope to be brave enough to write about a dark spot in my life - and what it is like trying to cope with it when others don't understand, and I'm continually forced to "handle it" with grace.

I want to write about all of the "lasts" I've experienced in the past three and a half weeks...my last childbirth, our last child entering our family, our last PT visit with Sharon, my last trip to Maida, my last trip "home..."

I am frustrated because I don't have the time or energy to let everything in my head flow out my fingertips. And so, day by day, more blogging piles into my head. It's like a manuscript of my life as I live it...a narrator droning on in my head.

But even with the exhaustion and frustration, I am grateful. This is my life. And it really is a good one.
I am going to attempt bed now, and I fully expect to wake up on the right side of the bed tomorrow, or probably several times with a hungry baby!