Atomic Tonic

Linnea woke up to watery eyes and a sneezing fit this morning. I've already had to pick her teeny nose and break in the new bulb syringe.

I knew this was going to happen. Newborn. Coughing toddler. We were exposed to the flu and apparently strep throat before she was born. A handful of people holding her. February. But still. Not even a week and a half old and already feeling the charms of New England and breathing through her mouth.

I'm feeling the charms of New England too although for dfferent reasons. It'd been a mild winter up until a week ago. A week ago it got really cold and bitter and now we have the ice after the storm. It's hermit weather and I've been abiding it but the cabin fever it starting to make me itchy. The toddler hysterics are hitting me right between the eyes and the 25 pounds I apparently have to lose are just hitting me.

In an effort to put off my own hysterical tired as long as possible, I've been heading to bed shortly after Matilda at night. Trying to sit down now and then. Drink enough water. Eat a healthier diet than my pregnancy one which isn't that difficult considering my pregnancy diet was atrocious. I've been trying to nap with the kids, provided they nap at the same time. Today I got about 20 minutes.

This is all well and good, but the attempts to get some sleep mean I've got very little to no kid-free time and when they're awake, one requires a diaper change every half hour or so and every half hour or so, she manages to pee on the couch or poop through three layers of clothing, changing cloth and changing table cover. The other is finding it impossible to do or ask for anything without dramatics and tears. Oh my god, the tears.

What I really want to do is go for a run. I even tried to pump today to see if I could store up enough to leave the house for an hour. Turns out, I might be producing sufficient milk to keep Linnea content, but I still can't pump for shit. I guess I should consider myself lucky as if I actually pulled off the time to go for a run, I'd probably make it about 50 feet before I collapsed in a pile of post-partum fat and jiggle and giant, electric boobs. But. 25 pounds. *blank stare*