You know when you write something and you’re kinda proud of it, but a little embarrassed at the same time? I’m sure we’ve all done it at some point. You know the one; you’re about the spill your heart out to The Internets and share something that will expose you to theyour very core, but you’re concerned about being a little too open? One where you teeter between hitting hit publish or delete?

I had one of those, and for some cosmic reason my computer freezes (Um, fuck you Vista. Kthxbai.) and said post has vanished. I was a little relieved, while slightly disappointed because I put so much effort into it; that disappointment turned to heartache when I opened my reader today to see that two other wonderful people are suffering just the same (Coincidence that our children are just weeks apart in age?). Heartache because I know writing it doesn’t only help myself, but others who may be in the same situation.

It’s a funny thing, that darkness. The way it brings out characteristics which would normally be wrapped tightly within our psyche. The lack of sleep warps and blends reality into a dreamworld where one tends to lose grasp on what is right and wrong. Flirting at the realm of what’s real and dream is a scary and dangerous ground which seemingly overcomes us at our weakest.

Each night I fear that place; the place which my silent house and lack of sleep takes me. Nights should be peaceful and comforting while everyday distractions are dismissed and it’s finally just me and my baby. But when I hear him stir resentment overcomes me; as my husband snores peacefully beside me, deep in sleep I dread getting up and tend to the baby’s needs. Each movement, sigh and grunt increasingly infuriates me the less sleep I get. I hate that I become this tyrant when my sleep is interrupted; I hate that I want to put my selfish needs before my innocent child.

Friday I fought to stay awake the whole day and by nightfall I was more then ready to succomb to sleep. To relax and put an end to the day, but my night would stretch beyond my comprehension. Deliriously tired, I sat in the darkness as my baby sucked the last of my willpower from my breast.The fussing, the whining, the inability to relax sent me over the edge of my sanity. I was at the point where I invisioned, too clearly, shaking my baby, throwing him down in the crib and walking away.

As the tears rolled down my cheeks, splashing silently upon his head, I immediately felt guilt. I felt horrible for even thinking I could do harm to my child. Knowing that I would never, the image was so vivid it was truly frightening, embarrassing even. Repeatedly telling myself this was just a phase, I rocked back and forth, coddling, cooing and shushing through tears, eventually calming us both.

His serene and porcelain-like cherub face resting pacefully wedged between my arm and breast made my heart melt. As I kissed his rosey little cheek, soaked with my tears, his released a peaceful sigh.

At that moment, I knew it would be alright: at least for now.

Over the past few years I’ve learned not to take things so personally. Okay, so it’s self-taught and it hasn’t been going all that well but whatever. I am better at not taking everything to heart; I don’t lay awake at night worried about why someone dislikes me or if they’re mad at me and for whatever reason. I  think I’ve somewhat accepted the fact that if you don’t like me, then tough shit: I can deal.

But that doesn’t take away the fact that I am still an over-analyzer and overly emotional. I have yet to find a cure for those traits so if you have an idea how, please, enlighten moi.

I started this Rookie (Mom) Challenge with the best intentions and honestly I’m a little bit crushed. I toiled and strategized and planned my wee heart out.  I have AMAZING support, AWESOME participants and (what I thought was) a good plan, then I began to worry… How can I improve it? Get it out there?  Gain some interest? But sometimes shit doesn’t fly, yanno? I get that. I can accept the fact that it’s just not internet gold and for that reason, I’m going to put it out of its misery. C’est la vie sometimes and that is the fact of life for this little nugget of poop.

Rookie Moms still rock and I still love their book and their site, it has nothing to do with that, it’s just that either this feature sucks, I suck, or both because it just ain’t flying. Not even if I threw it into the winds of a hurricane would this baby take flight.

So, with that my girl Vic at Glowstars takes the finale with this wickedly awesome picture:

She is officially my new Internet BFF.

And for that I also bestowe on her the I’m Hooked on Your Blog Award given to me by Jen @ Blissfully Caffeinated. For being hilairously witty and so awesome, because Dude. Did you see that picture?!

So here’s for you Vic and I will also be sending along your $20 gift card for Amazon.com (or Amazon.co.uk in your case I guess.)

So that’s it my friends. Rookie (Moms) Challenge out. (Shit. Seacrest. I should have thought about getting him to pimp this. That lucky little troll seems to have the magic touch. Eeewww the thought of being touched by Seacrest skeeves me out.)

I think that’s why I’ve been feeling a little down and out the past couple days. That, combined with the lack of sleep (FOR THE LOVE OF GOD BABY - SLEEP!) and the changing of the season (which always seems to fuck with me) I’ve been a little lackluster and dare I say extremely boring! lately. But never fear, once I double my dosage of anti-depressants and caffeinated beverages we’ll be back and more irreverant than ever.

Speaking of being down and out; check out this diddy I wrote on Saturday… nevermind, can’t find it. But, I promise you it was ultra derpressing about how tired I was and resentful about my husband sleeping and snoring while I was sitting up with a child that wouldn’t sleep unless I was holding him. You would have totally rolled your eyes at me. I swear. Then, through osmosis the kid finally got it and went to sleep for four consecutive uninterrupted hours. It rocked. Then he decided to start chatting at 6am and woke up Carter. That? That did not rock.

[insert transition here - I can't for the life of me remember how to spell segway...Yes, I realize that's the spelling for the two wheel motorized stupid thingy... but is it the same for a segway. I don't make any sense, I realize that, thank you.]

You remember those “Let’s make like a….” sayings?

Let’s make like a baby and head out.

Let’s make like a banana and split.

Let’s makes like a bee and buzz off.

Let’s make like a tree and leave.

Let’s make like a horses dick and hit the road. (That’s my favourite. Am twelve)

Know any different ones? I’m curious.

I never thought depression would happen to me. I naively thought that depression affects those who have something traumatic happen in their lives. I will admit that was completely uneducated as to how depression affects us. That was until it affected me.

read more | digg story

Sitting at the dinner table sometimes I forget that my child is there. How could I forget you’re wondering, well… I guess I don’t. My mouth does.

Mike: *some derogatory comment.*

Me: Suck it.

Carter: Suck what mommy?

Me: Oh nothing Carter.

Mike: Tell Mommy to Suck it.

Carter: Suck It mommy.

Me: You tell Daddy to Suck it.

Me: Hey Carter? Suck it.

Mike: Carter tell Mommy to blow a goat.

Carter: Mommy, Daddy said blow a goat.

Me: Carter, you blow a goat.

Carter: No, I blow goat when I get bigger

:::

Mike: Carter, go get naked. It’s time for a bath.

Carter: NO!

Mike: I said get undressed.

Carter: Daddy, Suck It!

Carter: Mommy, I told Daddy to Suck It!

Oh, you want us to babysit? Sure. No problem.