Part of being a parent that I’m having difficulty accepting is that I’m not an island unto myself. I’ve been pushing myself to do more than I’m really mentally and physically able to handle. Lack of sleep and a bit of delusional ego about being “the perfect parent” have lead me to paint myself in the corner of how I want things to be when it comes to raising my son.

After a few long nights, and rather difficult days that followed, I’ve found myself an emotional mess who’s barely able to hold it all together. I’ve come to the rely more heavily on my husband, who’s been a real champ at balancing both his day job and being a parent to an infant. But that’s taken its toll as well.

I’ve lost my shit more times than I’d like to admit, and I’m waving the proverbial white flag. I decided to call the daycare center to see if they can give me a hand a day or two a week. We’re also making more of an effort to get our son on a sleep schedule. Friends of ours suggested a few helpful hints and even one night after trying it out, we’re heading in the right direction.