I spent 2.5 hours this morning hovering around the edges of a preschool classroom while my oldest son, Adam, gave the preschool a trial run. Meanwhile I tried to keep Mark (2 months) content, which wasn’t as difficult as I had thought it would be. The main thing I worry about is getting him to nap, since he takes many short naps during the day. I am pretty good at getting him to nap in his infant car seat; I dread the day when we have to transition out of that car seat. I have no idea how I will get him to nap then, but hopefully by that point he will have settled into 2 longer naps per day.
Anyway, the preschool trial run went well, and Mark will start attending 2 mornings per week right away. When we got home, around noon, I was pretty wiped out. Adam went to MIL’s house this afternoon, so it’s just Mark and me. I have taken this opportunity to “rest when the baby rests,” as people are fond of saying.
I am at the point of fatigue where when I lie down, I get a warm, exhausted feeling all over my body. Sleep can overtake me quite quickly, which is unusual for me. When I wake up from a nap, if I am still tired, it is so difficult to get myself up and out of bed. I really hate feeling this way. (I’m also so tired that it’s hard for me to write in a clear and organized manner!) I also tend to feel guilty for resting when I “should” be doing so many other things. However, I am slowly changing my feelings in this area.
When I start to feel guilty, I remind myself that it is normal and no fault of my own that I am so worn out. Most nights I do my best to get to bed as early as possible; it’s not as if I’m out painting the town red. So, when I get a chance to rest, I try to do so without feeling guilty. Rest is a biological need, not a luxury. I am a better wife and mother when I am rested, and if the laundry has to pile up and the dog hair has to accumulate in the corners, then so be it.
If other moms of young babies have energy to volunteer, have a spotless house, and cook dinner 7 nights a week, that is great for them. I am just not capable of that, and I’m (mostly) okay with that.