Before I became a mom, the term “touched out” was completely foreign to me. It sounded like some sort of weird phenomena that happened to people with sensitive nerves. How on earth, I thought, could a mother not want to hold her child? The answer? Perhaps when she’s been holding her for the past 36 hours and counting. I never realized how personal space could become such a rare luxury. Between a toddler who isn’t feeling well, a teething baby who wants to be held all day and nursed all night, and husband who's working long hours and crashes around 9pm, it’s hard to catch a break. Right now I think it’s safe to say that not 10 minutes goes by in my day without being held, pinched, bitten, pulled on, nursed on, or held tightly by one little person or another. I feel like if one more person touches me today, I’m gonna jump out of my skin.
I think it’s safe to conclude that Amanda is more of a high needs baby than Eva was. Even trying to type this, Amanda is crying in my lap because she wants to nurse, even though she fell asleep nursing for the last hour while I tried to distract myself watching TV (I set her down, and she immediately wakes up. So much for a break). Nights are just more of the same right now, with Amanda wanting to nurse constantly. I get a crick in my back from staying in one position, but when I move away Amanda is rooting and crying for me within a half hour. Lack of sleep makes for grumpy mommy, so I try to take B-vitamins to offset the crabbiness and Advil for my aching back. Now, if that nasty tooth would just pop through so Mommy could get a few minutes break!
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