All in a daze wok

This day is literally in the Dear Diary ( even though I keep spelling dairy) category. The morning started out with a very stressed new mom and a screaming, over tired 2 month old. My brain waves are so fragmented that I lose concept of time so I had no idea I had been up for 2 hours beginning at 4am trying to soothe an upset child until I was about to crack. And by that I mean we were both in tears – so much so that they were running down my chest. I just let them fall. Then I laid him in his bed and left to go lay in mine – we both just cried it out.

What stressed me out most was that I now have to go to work and put on a nice face. When I was home all day I could handle it a little better because I could eventually settle him then go back to sleep for an hour and become a partial person again. Now I can’t. I have to paint on face that says I’m doing well and couldn’t be better AND be productive. I’m a zombie now and do not dream when I sleep.

Thank goodness for friends that listen and just let me cry intermittently all day.

But really the ultimate “ ok, I’m just going the home now” moment was the total embarrassment I just encountered. It’s rare for me to declare TOTAL embarrassment about something but it does happen and I have to take note. Like the time I had an Xray done at the chiropractor – it was of my low back. He threw that film on the light box and I about had a stroke! There was a shadow at the bottom…hmmm, what’s that? It was my hooey!! I don’t even know what he said my problem was but I’m sure he noticed my blazing red face and maybe even wondered why I looked like I would run from the room blowing my chair into the wall! I never blush but that was blush worthy. Dang, and I have to see him pretty often too.

Back to today as if I needed another reason to cry. I have to lug a breast pump to work to feed this child - that’s goofy feelin’ enough but Vandy isn’t a pump friendly work place. I have to go to a shower closet 4 floors down to hook up! And I learned today that there is a lot breasts vying for time in this closet. The moment I heard the door rattle the horrified thought of “Dear God, did I lock this door???” It was like slow motion and no I did not. WHY?!?! I DON’T KNOW I’M NEW TO ALL THIS! So there I was, like a deer in the headlights but teats hooked up to a milking machine. And how can you cover yourself with hands full of plastic? You can’t. You have to sit there and apologize loudly and profusely so the intruder can hear you through the door. I don’t really remember her face but I bet she would recognize ME out in the hallways. Great.
OMG, anyone got a shot of tequila anywhere?

Get me outta here!!