Powerball

I got a promotion at work, but I don't talk about it with anyone because the truth is for some reason I don't feel excited about it at all. I remember before I knew I got it -- when the opportunity was there and I was crossing my fingers that I got it -- I was so psyched. And then it happened and I don't know if I'm just so completely and utterly burned out from work (and life?) right now that I was kind of like, "oh." (I think part of it also was that I couldn't tell anyone at work immediately and Matt was in class when I found out so I could be excited with no one but myself and my wireless mouse ... and it tends to be my very initial reaction that carries through, for whatever reason.)

I hear you wiggling on the monitor. STAY ASLEEP.

Either way, I just can't function or focus at work. It's just the last place that I want to be, ever. Which doesn't bode well when you have a new position, of course. Luckily what I'm doing with new position is essentially same as old position so my lack of brain function isn't totally detrimental (yet). I want nothing more than to stay home with her. It's like it gets worse each and every day. It's horrible.

I took Friday off of work last week because of the holiday and because my grandfather was in town. Originally we were supposed to do the milk study that morning, but I decided I didn't want her to drink the radioactive milk, especially because the result of the test would not get us any further along, and the possible 'treatment' was something that I didn't want for her anyway: If they determined that her tummy didn't empty that fast the options are to thin her feeds (which totally contradicts the whole "thickening" of her feeds to keep it down) or to put her on an antibiotic so that the side effect ('rrhea) would help her empty her stomach faster. Gross. I have been told there is no medical reason to need her to empty her stomach faster, especially since she continues to gain, etc, so I see no win. So we didn't go. I called us in sick. Correction, Matt called us in sick. I have no energy.

But it is just so wonderful to get to spend the whole day with her. And I actually get to see how she is during the day. And let me tell you, there is nothing wrong with her eyes when she is not tired. BUT HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO ARGUE THIS AT THE DOCTOR'S OFFICE WHEN I DO NOT SEE HER DURING THE DAY TIME AND I HAVE NO IDEA?? This is part of my problem right now. In theory the CN would mean that her eyes are wonky all the time, and that fatigue and stress would make them worse -- not necessarily that they are perfectly fine and then when she's tired they start to bounce. I do not disagree that they bounce when she's tired, but I am not satisfied because she is totally fine during the day. The opthalmologist and I have been playing phone tag so I haven't been able to follow-up. Part of me is like, "eh," since there's nothing they can do about it anyway if she does REALLY have it. Did I mention I have no energy?

I want to be her advocate and I want to fight but I feel like I don't know her. I want to know her so badly but I just don't and when I am around her I feel like a beaten horse. Whoever gives the bullshit about "just make the most of your nights and weekends!" when they talk about working moms needs to be taken out back and shot. Make the most of my nights? What, the two hours that she's "awake" after I get home, which means she's really not fully awake and always cranky and there needs to be some sort of meal made for the two of us during that same time because it is apparently not acceptable for me not to eat dinner, etc etc? That is not quality time. She is so out of it and exhausted from day care. And on the weekends we are so f'ing busy doing all the things we don't have time to do any more (especially since she goes to bed by 8:00... the routine for which begins around 7:00... and there goes the night. Say goodbye to dinner if you want to run any errands during the week).

And I'm not really complaining about having stuff to do, per se. I'm just complaining about the fact that "make the most of your nights and weekends" is totally and completely bogus.

I dream about quitting my job every single day. I like it for what it is. I have a good job. But I want to be with my baby and be sure that she is OK, and I'm not convinced that she is. And then I look at the monstrous bills we have from her time in the hospital and the fact that insurance STILL won't cover her formula and a 15-can supply (which is maybe a month and a half?) is over $500 and I'm all like, "there's no way." Taking unpaid time off of work is not exactly an option either when your checking account has a whopping $400 in it before your next paycheck. AWESOME.



This is what they gave me when they dilated my eyes. Baby Blue Blockers. I thought I'd bring them to Rosh Hashana dinner to match Great Grandma Susie.

In other news:

• She likes peas. I think they taste absolutely disgusting.
• She has had a cold for the past week plus. I can't decide if her snorting down the saline is better or worse than when I suck it out with the nose bulb.
  
• I feel such personal victory when I get a gigantic booger out with the nose bulb. Go mom!
• She has learned to make a fake coughing noise when she wants your attention. It is hilarious and frightening that she has figured this out already.
  
• She doesn't like being left alone in a room. See: coughing.
• In 11 days she gained 5 oz and grew a half an inch.
• Her five month bunny pictures did NOT turn out because I all of a sudden suck at taking pictures and I'm mad about it. And I am too stubborn to retake them because all the others have been on the 13th and it's not the 13th any more.
• As I'm packing up her summer clothes it is pathetic how many outfits she only wore once and/or not at all.
• She already has a massive fall wardrobe, it's only September, and we grow like a baby giraffe. I have not learned from previous bullet.
• I went back to the doctor for my annual this week (you'd think you'd get like a free pass from this considering how often they're up there when you're pregnant) and I have lost all but two pounds. I guarantee you that's two pounds of candy corn.
  

Mom, I'm not in focus! Set your camera correctly! Geez!