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FUCKING DEPRESSED with ALL the babies

Scene: Bunlet is screaming and has been for some time. (Let me attempt to represent that part…)  WAH I’ve tried WAH the WAH carrier, WAH the WAH swing,WAH the WAH holding, the WAH everything, but I WAH also had to give WAH Bun Bun WAH breakfast, so there was only WAH WAH WAH so much WAH I could WAH do. She, WAH meanwhile, WAH has WAH decided WAH to remove WAH her diaper, the WAH latest in her WAH bag of annoy WAH the fuck out WAH of me WAH tricks. As WAH I’m wrestling WAH it back in WAH place and WAH trying WAH to get WAH her pants WAH on, she WAH grabs a WAH goodly handful WAH WAH WAH of my WAH hair and yanks. WAH I shout WAH something WAH at her, WAH WAH WAH WAH WAH WAAAAAH WAAAAAH WAAAAAH I have no idea what, WAAAAAAAAAAAAAH but I do know that I WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH wanted to upset her, WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH because I was so upset WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH, and that felt WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH really bad, and then I WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH pushed her roughly off WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH me and that felt even worse and then I began to weep WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

These episodes do not make up the majority of my time or anything, but oof, they keep happening. No matter how resolved I am at the beginning of the day not to lose my temper, BAM, thar she blows. I know part of it is just the reality of taking care of two irrational creatures, but part of it is definitely the FUCKING DEPRESSED. (For those of you not familiar with this technical term, recall that the DSM-IV distinguishes FUCKING DEPRESSED from postpartum depression, which is its own incredibly evil, cruel, heartless phenomenon, and SWEET JESUS does my heart go out to the women who are faced with it.) For me, the FUCKING DEPRESSED has its own special pattern. Everything’s fine, and then I’m a sobbing mess, castigating myself for being an utterly hopeless, useless, abusive, shit-tastic mother and person. And, even as all that is going through my head, on some magical parallel plane I’m thinking, Everything is actually totally fine. I just need to remember to put her pants back on as soon as each meal is over, and to put my hair UP. Having babies is hard, and this is a hard part, but soon it will be a nice part again.

And soon enough it is. Like, for example, the fact that when Bun Bun sees a rabbit in a book, she says MAMA. I have no idea why. I mean, m and b are both bilabials, and m and n are both nasals, but there’s no explanation for the a / u thing, so it’s a mystery, but a very charming one.

Nonetheless, I feel like I’ve been a slave to hormones for a thousand years, and boy am I sick of it, and boy is my husband sick of it. The state of our marriage is a story for another time. And starting tomorrow, I will be FUCKING DEPRESSED with a nanny. I have NO doubt that those of you who suggested I’d be super grateful for her return are correct.  But right now I’m thinking about feeling all self conscious about how I look and how loud my baby is screaming and how few outings I can manage to come up with and how much milk is spraying out of me and all sorts of other silly, sad things. And in addition, I feel defeated. I couldn’t pull it off. I couldn’t keep the children from crying, I couldn’t take good care of them. I suck. FUCKING DEPRESSED.

30 Comments Post a comment
  1. Nicole #

    Yep, that is pretty much how I feel but I don’t get a nanny.!

    September 24, 2012
  2. Dang girl, sounds like you need a friend to make an extra strong batch of margaritas and let you just sit in some peace and quiet for a bit. I am sure you aren’t as harsh as you feel like you are to your kiddos. We can’t all be Mary Poppins and it is often hard to realize how young they are until after you have said/done something that shocks you and makes you think ‘wow bad call mom’. You’re human…or you are one well programmed robot. One of the two. You’ll get through this stage and soon forget the awful parts. Having help really makes a difference. So YAY for the return of the nanny.

    September 24, 2012
  3. Oak #

    I am not sure if it will hurt or help to know these two things:
    1) you are so not alone. I was just too ashamed to post about the day I finally gave in and bit my toddler as a last resort when he took to biting the shit out of me all the time. (Note to whoever cares – it actually worked, he stopped)
    2) i swear to god, it gets better. It SO gets better but the first three months are the fucking longest most trying days I’ve ever lived. Ever.

    (I’m also too ashamed to post about the day I sat rocking on my couch staring at two screaming kids praying my husband got home SOON. And he did. And when he did I ran out of the house screaming “THERE’S A BOTTLE IN THE FRIDGE FOR HER!” and I went to the bar. Alone. For three hours. It took that long before I could walk back into my own home and look at my own children)

    You’re doing great, lady. Even when it feels like you’re not, you are. You’re doing great.

    September 24, 2012
  4. Louisa #

    I wish I could give you a hug and a manhattan, yup my best advice is alcohol! Just kidding but do know you are not alone my sons latest neat trick is to yell “ouch ouch ouch” while doing his best to pinch and bite me. Not fun. I yell too and I’m only dealing with one kid, 2— my hats off to ya. This too will pass hopefully very very soon.

    September 24, 2012
  5. SRB #

    Listen to both voices woman. Both voices are right: It IS hard, and it IS nice. The first three months can be a goddamn nightmare with nice moments sprinkled in to maintain a shred of sanity and dignity – totally legit! The voice telling you that you are the worst person/woman/mother ever is a FUCKING LIAR, so don’t listen to that one. Sweet, sweet relief is on it’s way tomorrow so that you can rest, and recover, and recharge and re-kick ass.

    September 24, 2012
  6. Bunny, I HEAR YA!
    I am having my arse whipped ten ways till Sunday. And all by two innocent children. Although innocent is not exactly the first thing that comes in mind when talking about George. But you know. My two children are having my tired, exhausted, wiped out self on toast for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And they don’t even eat it, just chew it twice and spit it out. Because mummy needs some entertainment and wiping the floor is soooo funny!
    My brains are mush. I can’t think properly. I am fucking tired of the whining, and the screaming, and the limp noodle in the middle of the street or supermarket, and the nonononos, and the fussy eating, and cooking for nothing, and putting toys away to have them scattered all over the house in five minutes, and sweet lord, I could strangle the stupid male who made the hoover with a wrist clock engine that needs resting after I am done hoovering one fucking room! Because I do have time and energy to rest, don’t I?!
    It’s hard. And even though times flies by, it is still mother fucking HARD.
    So.
    I hear ya, sister…

    September 24, 2012
  7. Oh, Bunny. I’m sorry.

    You do not suck. You have two kids under the age of two. Which is a fucking LOT to deal with.

    Take some time for yourself when the nanny comes?

    September 24, 2012
  8. Ana #

    Yeah. I’m STILL There. The yelling and the screaming (both mine and theirs) and the feeling shit-tastic as a mother..and I don’t have post-partum hormones to blame either. If kids are alive & feel loved at the end of the day, you’ve done good. Real good. Focus on the moments of bliss, no matter how brief, and hold them in your mind & heart to get you through the rough times.

    September 24, 2012
  9. I beg to differ with the last few statements. I totally get the voice of the Fucking Depression that says all of these things. But the thing you have to remember is that It Lies. The lady from the magical parallel plane is telling you the truth. Kids and babies cry. A lot. Even when they are surrounded by rainbows and sunshine and impossibly perfect parents. And there is something particularly attention-demanding and difficult-to-ignore about a newborn’s cries. I think they are designed that way on purpose, but man can it make them difficult to live with.
    I’m so sorry that things have been rough lately. I’m hoping the following link (which includes a bit about a certain blogger’s husband duct taping a certain child’s pants and shirt together to prevent diaper removal) will help a little:
    http://julia.typepad.com/julia/2010/05/repeat-without-rinsing.html
    And maybe you can practice listening to magical-parallel-plane lady?
    I love the idea that BunBun calls bunnies Mama. How awesome is that?!

    September 24, 2012
    • Ah ha ha ha ha! LOVE that photo. Super excited to try this myself.

      September 25, 2012
  10. This post is giving me flashbacks. On the plus side, that means a year from now, this will all be but an unpleasant memory (and you’ll still view it through rose coloured spectacles!).

    On the downside, you’re still in the midst of it now. And because Bun bun is so young, that just makes it more difficult. But it will get exponentially easier.

    As everybody else has said, you haven’t failed. I don’t think anybody has a genuinely different experience with two children this young. Maybe there are a few exceptional mothers with exceptional babies out there, but you get to be one of the majority.

    I’ve heard that putting the diapers on backwards stops the removal, though it always seemed to me that it would cause other issues.

    September 24, 2012
  11. I love you so much.

    http://www.huffingtonpost.com/glennon-melton/dont-carpe-diem_b_1206346.html

    I recite whole paragraphs of this to myself every single day.

    September 25, 2012
  12. Misfit Mrs. #

    I want to say hugs or something, which is so unlike me. Not that I wouldn’t just hug you in person, because I would. And I’m not the huggy type. So let’s just say that a few more of these fucking depressed days would make me load up a hug package and send it to your far corner of Ohio. Even someone with lots of sleep and a nanny would snap in these circumstances.

    And remember, a truly horrible mother would never ever think that they were a horrible mother. Much like anyone who tells you they are smart…as they are probably not. And since saying CHEER up, is akin to a bitch slap of, it’s all your faultness, I’ll just be here holding out a grey goose martini with a lemon twist, for that minute when both kids are sleeping and all is right in the world once again.

    September 25, 2012
  13. 1) I made a photo book of Bug, before Tatoe was born, specifically so we could sit on the couch after putting him to bed (NO! Don’t steal the baby’s toys! No biting! No hitting! NO NO NO NO FUCKINGHELLNO!) and flip through it and say “He used to be so cute.”

    2) I once put Bug down too hard (after he came into the bathroom, hit me, and tried to TP the whole sink) and he slipped on the wood floor in his not-grippy-bottomed-socks and fell down and bit his lip and there was blood everywhere and I felt like the WORST MOTHER EVER. So. You’re not alone.

    September 25, 2012
  14. Holy shit, I know virtually nothing about linguistics (apparently). Mama rabbit. Hey, I want to say something that is going to make you feel better, but that’s really likely impossible at this point. I hope hope HOPE that having the nanny there is going to give you some much-needed relief. I *know* you are doing a better job than you think. And if commiseration is helpful, I’ll just say that I yelled NO! at my 15 month old after she threw food off her tray onto the floor for the 8th time last night at dinner and she cried, oh man she cried. And I felt like a jerk. But ya know, there’s that whole magic of “good enough mothering” that as a therapist, and a mother, I believe in strongly. We do NOT need to be perfect. Hang in there lady…

    September 25, 2012
  15. I feel like any comfort I may try to extend could be quickly dismissed because I’ve never lived the life of parenting two irrational creatures simultaneously, but I will offer some solidarity nonetheless: I’ve had days where I’d be absolutely mortified if anyone I knew was a fly on the wall in this house. It’s haaaard. We give the best we can at that given moment, you know? There is no perfect way to parent, let alone stretch yourself between mothering two babies ALL AT ONCE, so be gentle on

    yourself, woman.

    Hear me: You are doing a good job.

    September 25, 2012
  16. Oh Bunny … everything you’ve written is what (as I understand it) every single mother has gone through the second time around. I am terrified of it, but know that in about a year (*hopefully*), I will be writing a similar post. And then you’ll comment on my post – “yeah… been there, done that … and now everything is awesome – hang in there”. I just know it. You are an amazing mom and the Fucking Depression will lift and things will get better. Until then, vent like a venting mother fucker on your blog so you can get it out. Its great to have an outlet. I’m thinking of you and in your corner cheering away! xoxo

    September 25, 2012
  17. I remember the clusterfuck of those early months with ONE baby. TWO must be insane. You are doing fabulously and the fact that you still can have a conherent thought about keeping this together is impressive.

    And, Bun Bun calling rabbits Mama is awesome.

    September 25, 2012
  18. Aww, dang! Here’s hoping this terrible (yet totally normal) period passes quickly!

    September 25, 2012
  19. EB #

    Oy. Me too. The best thing about this post are all the comments which so aptly demonstrate that you’re normal – this is normal, it will pass, the babies won’t remember the moments you snapped, etc…

    I have my own fairly identical tales and I hugely appreciate all of the “me toos” in these comments. I hope they help you get through some of the awful moments and that the scale starts to tip more frequently on the easier side each day.

    Hang in there! (and I’m a HUGE believer in conjugating Fuck as creatively and loudly as possible!)

    Elizabeth

    September 25, 2012
  20. Hey Bunny. If it helps you to know…. I’m fucking depressed too and I only have one screaming whining kid with me here now.

    The hormone thing without a break, the spraying milk, the diaper dances. It is a lot to deal with that’s for sure. I’m here to tell you you’re not alone. And hopefully when you’re not physically alone all will feel a bit less depressing.

    September 25, 2012
  21. Jen #

    The only thing you’re doing a lousy job of is lying to me about what parenting two monsters (I mean BABIES! adorable cuddly BABIES!) will be like. LIE TO ME. I’m seeking out nanny help for when KB goes back to work in Nov/Dec (depending on when this womb fruit ripens), so I can prepare to return to work. Although I think it will be awkward to share my house with another caregiver who’s caring for my baby while I’m actually right there, I have no doubt it will afford me the break I need to stay sane. So take your break. Stay sane.

    September 25, 2012
  22. No. NO. I do not want the FUCKING DEPRESSED visited upon my Bunny again. NO! This is not cool, universe. And unlike Misfit, I AM the hugging kind (both in person and in blog), so I am sending you them by the bucket load. You’ll be so sick of hugs from ‘gusta that you’ll prefer the WAH of Bunlet and all will be well with the world. And after you take Misfit’s offer of a martini. Grey Gousse is the way to go, I say.
    Seriously, I hope the nanny’s arrival marks a period of respite in this arduous chapter in your new edition.

    September 26, 2012
  23. Wow, Glumbunny is Glum. And yet, I still think you’re doing an amazing job, when I look at my own Stellar Parenting Skills which, due to a long day away from the computer yesterday coming home to find a couple of issues that have blown up all over my internet, and trying to still deal with the fall out this morning, nearly came to shouting at Gwen. I do not like taking my frustration out on her. 😦

    I just keep telling myself it has got to get better. Once I can reason with her, ask her to give mom just 5 more minutes to write that damn email….

    September 26, 2012
  24. Oh, mama. Those episodes happen to me with one, so I can’t quite wrap my head around two. That article Roccie posted is good (so glad you posted it, R, as I got a lot out of it as well).

    And as for you in your marriage, you get a pass. Hormonal? So effing what. You’re entitled (though, I hope for your sake that your hormones sit down and behave soon). Your husband can suck it up. It’s hard. Hard, I say. (Transference? Quite possibly.)

    September 27, 2012
  25. I’m adding my support/commiseration/alcohol-prescription to the crowd. One baby is fucking hard. Two babies is mothergoddamnfucking hard. I dealt with the Fucking Depressed for a very long time. I still deal with the Fucking Irritated on a daily basis. You know what i’m finally coming around to? I don’t like parenting young children. I just don’t. I LOVE my young children. i LOVE the nice moments. i LOVE their cute squishy uncoordinated little bodies and obviously genius minds. But i still want to run from the house and my own skin most days. One of the worst parts for me is that look from my husband when i snap. That look that probably means “i’m sorry you’re so frustrated” or “hey, chill out, they’re only 18 months old” but that i can only interpret as “i can’t believe i married such a short-tempered bitch who is emotionally scarring our children right here in front of me.” But one thing that has helped me recently (aside from just getting over it and admitting that i don’t like this part – the part without language or reason or the ability to eat without throwing everything on the floor and then rubbing every last crumb into every last hair follicle) is realizing that my stellar parenting skills simply lie in the future. I am going to kick every other seventh grader’s parents’ asses at helping their kid diagram sentences. The point is: i remind myself daily that this is not all there is to being a parent. Maybe i suck at this part, but at least i haven’t peaked early 😉 Thinking of you.

    September 27, 2012
  26. Ugh – this sounds awful. And so very very normal. I remember those moments when Alex was tiny, and I’m frankly petrified of doing it times 2. But millions of people have gotten through it, and the good news is it will get better. I hope the nanny helps you in so many ways!!! Thing of you…

    September 27, 2012
  27. I hope you’re doing OK. I hope the FUCKING DEPRESSED has left the building, or is at least held at bay behind a fuzzy wall of whatever intoxicant you prefer (lots of martini suggestions above; I’m a gin and tonic girl myself; some people go for the classic Sugar Coma instead. I really hope you’re OK.

    September 27, 2012
  28. Oh, crappazola and cheese. I am sorry to here the FD is back (and I admit that’s partly a self-interested sorry, but only partly). I am charmed as hell by the bunny/mama thing — only do you think it might be that she’s found your blog? The younguns are awful good with the technology, you know.

    Glad to hear about the arrival of the nanny, who I am sure has seen (and possibly felt) this all before. xo

    September 28, 2012
  29. Bunny, I’m so glad you have the presence of mind to know that things are truly okay, even in moments of FD. But I’m sorry that stupidpantstastic FD everever darkens your doorstep to begin with. Is it okay to tell you that it’s totally normal and everyone struggles? Because in my darkest moments, I’m not sure that would have helped a bit. Know that we love your writing, and so in the event that doing it and expressing yourself helps you to feel good, we’re all for it! Sending love.

    September 29, 2012

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