Uncanny Resemblance

My postpartum bellybutton bears an uncanny resemblance to my dog's asshole. Just sayin'.

Expecting the Unexpected

It's been a while since my last post. Little ones are adorable, but they are also emotionally and physically draining - even with help. Moms who convince you that the child rearing experience is otherwise are liars. That, or they are freaks. Freaks with freak babies. So I like to tell myself.

Not one to sugarcoat, I'll be the first to admit that I'm no model mother. I actually sit in my bed and have a good cry nearly every other day - out of sight from the nanny and Olive. It's not because I don't love my new little monster. For the record, I adore her to bits and will do anything for her. I mean it. Anything. (I'm holding and hugging a sleeping Olive as I type this.) But since her arrival, it's been difficult adjusting to all things new. Life postpartum is not what I expected. For every immense surge of joy I feel when interacting with Olive, I experience an extreme dose of sadness. I'm a passenger on a roller coaster of emotions and I've been riding this coaster for two months to date. I feel good three-quarters of the time, but the other quarter is spent having panic attacks about a wide spectrum of things. I'm constantly anxious - be it about the baby (obvi), home cleanliness, my career, my weight. I have to consciously not-freak-out, and I'm pretty sure that this new me (whom I'm not fond of) scares the hubby. Josh, I am so sorry. I just don't feel like myself lately... and am having a hard time getting out of my slump...

On a brighter note, Olive is exact 2 months old today. *big grin* Rather than highlighting how adorable and bright she is (parental bias!), I think I'll just spend the neck paragraph highlighting how huge she is. Our freakishly strong baby girl is already putting her neck muscles and Michelle Obama-esque arms to use. Check her out! Next thing you know, she'll be busting out her father's P90X videos and doing push-ups. *teehee*