Hardest job EVER.

Yeah, I'm going to vent about how hard this motherhood gig can really be. We all know how rewarding it can be, how special it is, and how blessed we are to be moms, so I'm not going to waste much time on that side of the coin. Right now I simply want to vent about the challenges and the difficulties. Though I'll never truly know what it's like to be a dad (duh - because I'm not one), I assume they have their own set of rewards and issues to juggle. I'm not going to go there either.

This is about me - a mom - and my struggles.

As a blogger, I find myself more inclined to share the good news and accomplishments while glossing over or straight up ignoring most unpleasantries. That is one reason why you might not see more frequent postings from me. Or I'm exhausted, which isn't necessarily a good or bad thing. Or I might just be too busy. Or I might not have anything nice to say, in which case we've been taught to not say anything at all. Well, it's not going to be that way today. This blog is my forum, my soapbox, my bullhorn, my post-it note - it's a vehicle for sharing my thoughts, however random, insightful or boring they may be.

Sigh.

This week has been particularly hard. Harper has been feverish, on and off, for days. We made a last minute trip to the doctor on Monday afternoon, but nothing came out of it. We were told to proceed with Motrin and Benadryl, and to keep an eye on the fever. Strep and flu tests were performed just in case, but they both turned up negative. Meanwhile, we've spent all week with a cranky, grouchy and tantrum-y toddler. I have been amazed by some of the fits she has thrown. When she is in tantrum mode, she is not to be swayed. They make me feel angry, sad, helpless and deficient. I can only imagine how they make her feel inside.

It is during those moments that I question my ability as a mom. It makes me wonder if I have any idea what I'm doing. I'm vaguely aware that none of us really knows what we're doing - we're all just making a go of it and trying to give it our best effort. It is exceptionally hard to swallow when you feel like you really must not even have a clue.

We haven't sleep well at all this week either. Tuesday morning we were awoken at 4:30AM by our little blue-eyed monster. She can usually be put right back to bed with the replacement of her pacifier. That would not be the case on that particular morning. That was our wake-up call for the day. To make matters worse, she didn't go down for her nap until 2:45 that afternoon during which she slept for less than an hour. I may or may not have referred to her as "Damian." Remember that kid from the movies with the "666" marking? Yeah, that about summed up my feelings yesterday. Oh, and from approximately 12:15 - 4:30 PM today, with the exception of yet another 45-minute nap.

Gee, thanks for the break!

I hope that incoming teeth are to blame for the recent interruptions in our lives. I keep peering into her mouth to inspect for evidence of new pearly whites. Nothing so far. I've heard the canines, or eye-teeth, can be the absolute worst, and those are the exact four that we are waiting on.

Sigh.

It hasn't all been terrible this week. After she's taken her meds, it's relatively smooth sailing. Well, comparatively. Our troubles occur when the drugs start to wear off before enough time has passed to administer the next dose. Speaking of which, that time is nearing.

This should be a happy week. We made an offer on a house yesterday, and we signed the contract today. If all goes well with the buyer of our house, then we could be in our dream house by the end of April. I'm excited, but I can't really show it because my head feels like it is going to explode. I need sleep. Desperately. I need my Harper-free time, but alas, there is no MDO this week. I'm not completely sure of what else I need - I can just tell you that I feel like a zombie.

I should be grateful I have the words and the ability to express how I feel. On the contrary, my poor, sweet Harper has little choice but to resort to throwing a fit. And believe me, it is not pretty when mother or daughter pitches a fit. Even scarier when they are synchronized. Take my word on it!

My rant is over. I feel a little bit better now, and I hope Harps does, too. As soon as I turn off the ceiling fan and unglue her toes, I'll ask her.