What i am feeling right now i think might go beyond the realms of "touched out", it's closer to "mauled to death" i reckon.
My days start with hair being yanked from my head, my eyes being poked, chubby little fingers pulling my lips open and poking my teeth, or my face being scratched (Rudy) sometimes someone is actually climbing across me, or standing on my face (either Toby or Rudy) In the past week i have twice been awoken by a baby biting down so hard on my nipple that i've only just managed to reign in my "fight or flight" response enough not to throw him off the bed and across the room.
Then generally the day continues thus. Clambering, pulling, biting, scratching, pawing...Rudy has the beginnings of seperation anxiety. Even when i am busy doing something- say clearing away the breakfast dishes, he will be crawling around after me, shrieking, grabbing my ankles and biting the tops of my feet and trying to latch on to my toes. Like some yappy little terrier. Toby is wanting a lot of cuddles. He will randomly declare "my want you!" and clamber on to your lap, which would be sweet if he kept still for a minute. But he shuffles and wriggles and grabs your ears to steady himself and pokes his bony butt/knees/elbows in wherever he can to get purchase and he weighs 15kg! It's not like he's as light as a feather!
Imagine if you had a hamster, or gerbil, or something like that, and you cuddled it and it bit you. You might drop it in surprise, you'd probably put it back in it's cage. You'd certainly think twice before getting it out for cuddles again in a hurry.
It's trickier with a baby. I have managed thus far not to drop Rudy in surprise but then we're usually lying on the bed feeding when he bites me, so that might just be luck. I do tend to quite swiftly stop feeding him and move him away/put him in his cot when he bites me, but unfortunately i am hard wired to meet his needs so five minutes later when he wants out and to feed again i have no choice but to oblige. It's getting old quite quickly though. I am currently sporting a hickey! A hickey! On my right boob! From my child! Where he angrily/sleepily latched on in the wrong spot and ignoring my protestations frantically proceeded to try and feed from the outer side of my breast.
He is almost 9 months old, and i'm wondering idly, if this is an evolutionary thing, like he had 9 months nurturing inside my womb, and now he's approaching having had 9 months of nurturing outside the womb and i am feeling like i am reaching the point of wanting my body back. Or at the very least, for the daily assault and battery to stop. I don't think i really want to stop feeding him (do i?!) as i've always felt i'd be shortchanging him by not feeding him for as long as i fed his big brother.
By bedtime, when they're both wanting to snuggle down and be fed/cuddled to sleep by a contented gentle mama singing lullabies i am just spent. I have absolutely nothing left to give either of them physically, mentally or emotionally.
Last night they both took forever to settle down for bed. Toby because of an impromptu lengthly afternoon nap and Rudy just because. Because he's an 8 month old baby who likes to fight sleep. Because he can.
I settled Rudy and then i tried to settle Toby. We had three stories and he had some milk. He wasn't being naughty, he was just laying in bed awake, tossing and turning, looking around his room. I suggested gently that he close his eyes, i cuddled him, to no avail. After a bit i grew weary. I mean, really really weary. I sat up and Toby said "Don't go Mummy". I said "I'm sorry Toby, i need to go have a shower" and he said (as he does quite often at the minute) "WHY?!" so i said "I need to have a shower so i can get my pyjamas on and go to bed myself. I'm very tired" and do you know what he said? "Alright" and he rolled over and closed his eyes. I left to shower, and he went to sleep by himself. Now if only i can convince Rudy to do the same...
Oh the joys of seperation anxiety, even with hubby coaxing and shouting and physically trying to remove her, Nyah will cling to the gate while I'm in the kitchen and shake it and scream and strop and wail. The girl can throw a tantrum, I'll give her that! So I pick her up and what does she do? Wriggle to get down. She doesn't want me to hold her, heaven forbid, no, she just wants to know she can touch me if she needs to. She seems so much worse than Theakston was but then Theakston was with a childminder 4 days a week so I didn't hear the constant whinging for me!
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