2004-12-04 - 4:13 p.m. - Cycle day:

Now I understand why so many parenting memoirs end around the baby's first birthday: it's a two-fold combination of feeling more settled (as mentioned in my last, long, long ago entry) and also not having the time to sit and ruminate on what's going on each day. There's not much chance for pondering in a household ruled by a toddler. I don't feel like things are as hectic as they once were, but the days keep slipping by. I guess it's partly because life is a little closer to normal, or at least we've figured out a new kind of normal. I don't have to completely ignore the house because I can now manage to pick up or do some laundry (with a tiny helper tossing things into the hamper ... and then taking them out and running all over the house with my underwear wrapped around her like a shawl).

Perhaps it shouldn't be entirely shocking to me, then, that I feel like I'm going through some sort of late-onset post partum depression. We're out of the crazy transition stage and to a point where I can say, yep, this is my life now. And that's causing more pain than I predicted. I'm feeling torn between what I expected this to be and what it's actually like. People are always asking when we're going to have another baby, and there's a voice in my head that always answers "Are you kidding? Can't you see how bad I am at this?" I'm not the patient, problem-solving, good-humored mom I planned to be. I spend way more time feeling pissed off than I want to. I feel like my fuse is just a few frayed millimeters long. I don't know if that's from exhaustion or malnutrition or hormones or what, but it scares and saddens me. Even if I'm not angry, I worry that I'm not "up" enough - that M. is being harmed by my general flatness (I wrote an article on the effects of maternal depression on babies, so I'm even more aware of that). On top of that, my feelings about my marriage are ranging from tolerable to actively discontent. Throughout our courtship, The Husband and I have noted the little things that make us fall in love a little bit more, but I'm just now realizing that the same thing can happen in reverse. The little unkindnesses can build up - flatly refusing to watch M. while I take a bath, for instance - until aggravation turns into apathy. It's hard to care for someone who doesn't seem interested in caring for you. But again, maybe my whole outlook is being tainted by other factors, and perhaps I'm more sensitive than I would normally be. I just keep running into the same thought - I love M. and I love the husband, but right now, I'm not loving being a mother or a wife.

Hmm, maybe having time to ponder isn't such a good thing.

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