Rope's end

On Friday morning the dogs would not stay inside while I tried to go out to open the fence so we could take out our cars and Cookie could leave for work. The neighbors' dog was outside and our dogs wanted ouuuttt they wanted to bark and run and ouuuuttt and I had had a terrible night and the baby was crying inside and so I headed for the garden hose to scare the dogs into the house with some water. He stopped me, told me he knew I was angry but there was no reason to be mean to them. The dogs ran inside anyway the moment they saw me head for the hose, anyway. I said goodbye to him, with tears in my eyes, and I said it. "You don't understand."

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I went out to work on Saturday and he stayed home wih the baby. My friend P picked me up, and when we arrived to K's house we found out her old lab Sophie was agonizing. We sat with them for a while, chatted with K's mom, petted the poor old thing -we've been working there for 6 months, I loved that dog- and P suggested we return later to do what were going to do, to give them some privacy.

We went to the other site, dealt with things there and headed back to my place. We ended up talking about our kids and our husbands for about an hour, just parked outside. When I went in, Cookie was pissed. "You could have come inside," he said. "This is not easy. I could have used a break."

He had the baby from 10 to 12:45. I just stared at him in disbelief. I'm sorry, I said. I don't know what else to tell you. He said it felt like I just didn't want to come in.

Can you blame me? I asked him. I said I wished I could have a break from the baby that wasn't me going to class or to work. "You were outside for an hour. You could have come in for tea or something. Given me a 15 minute break."

I didn't know what to say. I wondered if he could listed to himself.

He took a shower. I fed the baby.

I got angry. Angrier. I realized I never showered that morning, so I did. Took my time. So angry. Then it all turned to ashes. Sad. So tired. So ready to flee, to be done with everything.

The day got grayer and grayer, my mind slowing down to a halt.

K messaged me. Sophie had finally died. Where had I buried Max last February?

I took a nap while the baby ate. Woke up. He was playing on the computer, never said anything about lunch or supper. Eventually I gave up and cooked. I knew he was worried about me, perhaps maybe even a bit sorry for being angry at noon, but I didn't care. I couldn't muster energy to do anything. I wanted to sleep more than anything but I couldn't fall asleep for another nap.

I downloaded Ferber's book, How to solve your child's sleep problems, read the first four chapters. I don't like CIO methods, even controlled crying and gradual extintion sounds like too much for me, but I was ready to try anything. I needed sleep, and Cookie had previously been on my case about sleep training.

Baby Peanut cried for 45 minutes before falling asleep on his own, gradual extintion not feeling gentle at all. I wanted to die. I told Cookie as much. "Is there any rule in the book about quitting after an hour and just holding your baby and telling him you love him?" he asked. No. No such rule. The crying was killing us. He slept for only 40 minutes, and then we were back to wanting to eat to fall asleep.

My back hurts so much from picking him up and putting him down every hour or two. I gave up in the middle of the night, screw Ferber, I can't do it like this. Not while I'm this sleep deprived and tired.

We had an awful night, worst than the one before, I think.

But somehow I feel better, the weight of his words is finally slipping off me. He was right. In his own way, maybe he does understand. A 15 minute break would be nice.