Let me tell you about my day.

This week has been ridiculous. Then today was the cherry on top of the crap sundae that has been my life.

Dot has been waking up two to three times a night to eat since Christmas, which means I'm generally exhausted all the time, as I haven't slept longer than 2.5 hours in a row for months, and I still get to get up and go to work every day (not that I'm saying being a working mom is harder than being a SAHM, it just has different challenges). I'm exhausted to the point of crying most days.

So last week, when someone plowed into our parked car, pushing it up over a curb and into a tree, I couldn't help but laugh. And car shopping with an infant in tow is nothing short of horrible. Not to mention half the cars we looked at didn't even fit a car seat. Anyway, we finally bought a car, and picked it up on Monday.

:(

This morning, I woke up exhausted as normal. I got Dot ready, Mitch took her to day care, and I laid down for an extra 30 minutes. Which accidentally turned into an hour because like I said, I'm exhausted. So I didn't even shower, and as I'm getting ready to leave I think to myself, I should pump before I go to work. Nah, I'll be fine.

Oh no. I climbed into our schmancy recently acquired car, and rushed to work thinking I'll just pump as soon as I get there. In the midst of this rushing, a car threatens to hit me, and I swerved and hit a curb, rendering my back left tire flat. On the schmancy car we bought two days ago. I parked in a hotel parking lot, called AAA, and then realized that if I didn't pump soon, I would become a walking sprinkler.

*shakes fists at the heavens*

If you didn't already know, I'm very charming. I convinced a lady at the front desk of the aforementioned hotel to let me use an unoccupied conference room to pump. Crisis averted! But alas, as I prepared to hook myself up to the milking machine, I noticed that I forgot the AC adapter. And that there was peanut butter on my dry clean only dress. But I only started crying because of the AC adapter.

I also have the best husband ever, because he was able to understand through my blubbering that I had ruined our two-day old car and that I needed my AC adapter so that I could feed my baby at the day care that I put her in because I so selfishly wanted to continue my career. Also there was peanut butter on my pretty dress. He rescued me, brought me the AC adapter, and drove me to the shop where our car was being fixed.

So I found myself sitting on the dirty bathroom floor at Bob Sumerel, in my peanut butter dress, hooked up to the pump, and I realized that I pretty much suck at every aspect of life right now. Like, not really bad suck, but just like, a moderate level of suck. I think this is what happens when you have a baby and decide to exclusively breastfeed and still go back to work and school. You don't do any one thing well, so you just kind of suck at everything. I suck a little at my job, since I have no time to pursue activities that might help me climb some mythical ladder. I suck more at being a wife, as my husband is generally neglected and lonely . I kind of suck at being a mom, since my baby spends the majority of her days with strangers who are too busy to hold her, and then I only see her awake for a few hours a day, during which I am usually trying to squeeze in dishes and laundry and vacuuming so my baby doesn't always have dog hair in her mouth and eyeballs. I suck at being a student, as evidenced by the extra semester I have taken to finish my thesis. And I suck at being a friend, since most of my friends, particularly the childless ones, think I am probably died in childbirth.

Anyway, this is not to make anyone feel sorry for me. I don't feel sorry for me. I've accepted that I am just going to suck at things for a while. I just have too much. I can't quit being a mom or a wife. I'm almost finished being a student, and I'm not willing to quit my job. So, I'm just going to suck a little until Dot can feed herself and wipe her own butt. On a related note, I'm not going to eat peanut butter sandwiches for breakfast anymore.